


Forged In Flames

by ifyouwereamelody



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ember Island (Avatar), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s03e16 The Southern Raiders, Eventual Katara/Zuko (Avatar), F/M, Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Post-Canon, Scenes of a sexual nature - Freeform, Slow Burn, The Last Agni Kai (Avatar), Toph finally gets her field trip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-24 04:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 71,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21093299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifyouwereamelody/pseuds/ifyouwereamelody
Summary: He doesn't say anything. Then again, he doesn't really need to. She knows exactly how he feels – it isn't just hers, this tangle of confusion and longing, this strange, disorientating sting of clarity that somehow has only made everything else seem even more complicated.The Hundred Year War is at its peak. The Fire Prince has defected. Sozin’s comet is weeks away. And two teenagers struggle to make sense of themselves, their roles, and each other in a world that’s in the throes of change.





	1. Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, this was originally going to be a cute little collection of Zutara one-shots. Then it kind of started running away from me, and now it's turned itself into a multi-chapter fic which is going to extend way past the end of the series. I'm trying to keep up with posting a chapter every week, but the first six are all already done so here they are!
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters in this fic are my own creations, they belong to Bryke/Nickelodeon. I've also used some dialogue from the show at multiple points - basically if you recognise it, it's not mine. 
> 
> We're starting off with a continuation of the Ember Island Players episode (everyone's favourite).
> 
> [For those of you who read this fic in its first iteration, the Southern Raiders chapter hasn't been deleted - I've just shuffled the order a tad, so it'll be coming up next!]
> 
> 'Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate,  
Ember Island reveals the true you'

Zuko has been trying to sleep for what feels like hours. Spirits, maybe it _has_ been hours. The soft breathing of the rest of the gang whispers through the room, punctuated every so often by one of Sokka's snores.

He huffs lightly and stares at the ceiling a few moments longer, then abruptly picks himself up off the floor and slips out of the house.

The bay is quiet and calm, waves rolling in over the sand and then pulling back out towards the blackness of the sea. He stands in the stillness, watching the few scraps of cloud that are in the sky make their way past the moon, and he feels... what, melancholy?

Before he has the chance to explore that, something snags in the corner of his eye, the glow of the moon highlighting movement over on one of the large rocks that fringe the beach. He tenses momentarily, mind going immediately to his sister, but then his vision sharpens on the movements and, even in silhouette, he recognises the flow of Katara's waterbending forms.

Relaxing, he makes his way in her direction; he sees her spot him as he crosses the sand, and he lights a small flame in his palm so that she can see his face. She goes back to bending, limbs moving slowly, smoothly through the motions, shoulders rolling back as she turns multiple streams of water through the air. He can see why his uncle found inspiration in waterbending — bending fire centres on breathing, after all, and the push and pull of Katara's movements seem to mimic his own breaths as he reaches the base of the rock.

Things had been better since they'd travelled together across the Fire Nation; with her forgiveness, their interaction had eased from being laden with suspicion and blame to something lighter.

'I didn't think anyone else was awake,' he states, pulling himself up onto the sandstone.

She smiles, the moonlight catching on the side of her face as she tilts her head in his direction, eyes still held serenely on the sea.

'Waterbender,' she says briefly. Then, after a few moments more of twisting the streams around her hands, she continues. 'Sometimes when it's a clear night and the moon is strong I get... I don't know, restless? Like if I'm not bending then I'm missing out on something.' A breath of a laugh. 'It sounds silly saying it out loud.'

'It doesn't. I know what you mean. I get the same when the sun's coming up.'

Her eyes slip from the silver-streaked horizon to land on him, hands still intuitively working the water as a smirk curls the corners of her mouth.

'_You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun.'_

There's a laugh in her voice that Zuko has started to recognise as being light-hearted rather than mocking. He cringes all the same, dropping to sit with his elbows propped against his knees.

'Oh, man. Not my best moment.'

'I don't know, you've definitely got a flare for the dramatic. I can't think why they didn't include that line in the script today.'

He stays silent at this, and her movements slow to a stop, the water she'd been playing with flowing back down into the sea with a flick of her fingers. He can feel her eyes moving over him slowly, but keeps his sights firmly on the view, determinedly neutral.

'Why are _you_ still up, then?'

The casual tone in her voice is too forced to be genuine, even as she turns back away from him; it's clear she's already guessed the answer to her question. Now she's trying to walk the fine line between probing and prying, something that is still undefined in their newly-found companionship.

If he shuts down now, she'll accept it. They'll agree, wordlessly, that this is their limit, that they don't talk about this kind of thing with each other. They'll agree that the understanding they'd felt during their journey to find Yon Rha had been a one-off, not to be imitated in the confines of their day-to-day lives.

'That show today. I— I don't really feel like sleeping.'

He is so tired of pushing people away. And it's more than just that, too; it's her. He feels as though something has connected them ever since they found themselves trapped together in Ba Sing Se, some gossamer thread which had taken root when he first held up the mirror so that she could see herself in him, and she first offered to heal for him what had already been destroyed.

'I can understand why.' She's not pretending to be nonchalant anymore. Her silhouette is motionless against the white glow of the moon.

'Yeah. Seeing every bad mistake I've ever made being played out... It brought back a lot of regrets, things that I'd thought I was starting to make up for. And then watching my father defeat us made me think, maybe I'll never really be able to atone for my part in all this. Maybe everything I'm trying to do now is too little too late.'

Katara is silent for a moment, his words hovering in the air between them, and Zuko feels his breath falter, because what she's probably thinking is that he's right, and he doesn't know if he can take someone confirming those fears for him.

'Maybe it is.' _Catch_. 'But I don't think so.' _Release_. He crumples, just slightly.

'Why shouldn't you? I helped him. I did exactly what he wanted me to at almost every turn — I hunted the Avatar, I hurt innocent people, and I sat at his right hand and listened as he and his war council talked about doing awful things without saying a word.'

His shoulders are tight, neck almost sore.

When he lifts his head, she's there, sinking down to sit cross-legged so that he's side-on to her, still trying to give him some small sense of personal space even as she scrutinises him. Her voice is firm when she speaks, edging on forceful, and her eyes are simultaneously dark and shining as she keeps her stare fixed on his face.

'You're not like him, you know.' And he starts and looks around at her, because of_ course_ that's what he's afraid of. Something in him twists, the way it always seems to do when someone gives him more than he thinks he deserves.

'How do you know that?' he challenges, his voice suddenly rising. He pushes up off the ground, standing in front of her. 'It's not like I haven't tried to do the right thing before! But every time I do it's like the universe just pushes right back and tells me that I can't, so why even bother trying? What if I can't escape who I really am? My father marked me when I was _thirteen_ and I've been trying to get away from it ever since, but—'

'Sit down, Zuko.'

Her words are spoken quietly, but they're tight. Undeniable.

He sits, the heat still high in him. She eyes him with an open sadness, looking shaken behind the shine of the moonlight on her face.

The silence stretches out for a few moments, long enough that Zuko starts to feel jumpy under her gaze.

'I didn't know.'

'What do you mean?' he counters, more than a little sharply.

'I didn't know that it was him who did it to you.' Her face sets, and her voice turns fierce, fierce in his defence. 'You're not like your father. Do you think you'd be here if you were? Do you think you'd be this torn up over it? Do you _really_ think that he ever would've hurt you the way that he did if you were anything like him?'

The fabric of her stolen Fire Nation skirt drags along the rough ground as she moves herself across so that she's sitting right in front of him, knees only a couple of inches away from his, her body tilted forwards into his own space.

'I know you've done things that you regret, Zuko, but that isn't the sum of your parts. You're saying that maybe you can't escape who you really are, but you've got it the wrong way around — I think you're finally learning who you really are.'

She leans back, still not looking away from him.

'You know, you were always talking about needing to get your honour back from your father. But it was never his to grant you.'

Any fight left in him deflates as he releases the breath that he hadn't realised he was holding. Even though he's been here, with the gang, for a good few weeks now, he's still not quite used to being believed in. It feels... nice.

'Yeah, I know that.' Then he corrects himself. 'I did know that. Sometimes it can be hard to keep hold of.'

'Mmh.'

Neither of them speaks for a while after that, then Katara blows out a hard breath and her voice opens up the silence again.

'Wow. All that from one play.'

They both laugh, a welcome release from the intensity of the last few minutes. He lets his chuckle ebb away, smile left caught on his face.

'Thanks, Katara.'

The laughter is still in her voice when she replies.

'Hey, any time. Apparently, corny inspirational speeches are what I'm known for.'

* * *

They're lying on the stone, smiling at the stars as they remind each other of the play's strangest edits on their lives.

'Puppet Momo.'

'Puppet _Earth King_.'

'Toph's sonic powers.'

Katara breaks into a fresh stream of laughter at that one, the sound overflowing from her and out into the night air.

'And of _course_ she was thrilled by that casting choice. I don't know why I thought it might make her understand how the rest of us were all feeling.'

A breeze blows lightly across the bay, lifting strands of her hair up off her shoulder and letting them fall across the gap between them.

'Is it weird that I'm both impressed by how much they knew, and disturbed by how badly they got things wrong?'

A reply comes to his lips and he holds it there for a moment, gauging his position with her. When he does speak, he slips a smirk into his voice.

'Funny.'

'What?'

'Nothing, I just thought you liked things that were _so bad_.'

She twists to look sideways at him, scandalised.

'Oh, that is _so_ unfair. You know I can't throw anything from that show back at you!'

It feels like a victory, not because she's stuck for a response, but because the jibe landed where it was meant to, taken as something easy and good-humoured rather than a push too far into private ground.

Then the smile fades off Katara's face, and he feels like a jerk for bringing up a part of her story that ended in hurt. Jerk-bender.

His voice softens.

'I didn't know that you knew him.'

'Jet? I didn't know you did.'

'We were friends, for a while, I think.'

'Mmh,' she hums, her fingers running absent-mindedly through the ends of her hair. He finds it oddly hypnotising. 'We were... something else. Sort of. It was strange, seeing him in Ba Sing Se.'

'I'm sorry about what happened. It seemed like you cared about him.'

She looks at him.

'Yeah... Yeah, I did.' Then, perhaps feeling the need to level the playing field again: 'How about you? That girl with the throwing knives? Mai?'

He feels guilt tighten his jaw.

'Yeah.'

A beat passes; he knows what the next question is, and how dangerous it could be.

'What about Aang?'

She stiffens next to him.

'What about Aang?' she asks tightly, the cut in her voice suddenly becoming defensive.

'I just— They seemed to really want to make it look as though you didn't think of him... like that. I don't think he was happy about it.'

She lets out a short, harsh breath, turning her face away from him to look resolutely across the bay, and a few drops of water are pulled from the air around her to weave at speed back and forth between her fingers.

'I don't know. It's— it's complicated.'

Her head lifts as if she's about to stand, then drops back onto the stone with a defeated heaviness; she drives the heels of her hands into the sockets of her eyes.

'I feel like an awful person. He's got all this pressure on him, and I know that he wants— But I just _don't know_.'

He waits, knowing that she has more to say.

'I know I care about him, a lot. Sometimes it's like yeah, maybe that's— maybe that could be something, and then other times it's like there's no...'

She tails off, eyes coming back to meet his as she stalls, searching for the right word.

'Spark?'

She winces slightly and nods, drawing in a deep breath before speaking.

'Right.' A pause, and her forehead furrows. 'But maybe that's just because of all the other stuff that's going on. It's difficult; when everything's so... intense... it's hard to know what you really feel.'

'It is.'

'And I don't want to hurt him.'

'I think he knows that.'

She's been holding his stare up to this point, but now she looks away, gaze turning in the direction of the sea, seeking out the comfort of the incoming tide.

The air feels thick and uncomfortable, and Zuko searches for something else to say. When no other subject comes to mind, he opts for a more head-on approach.

'Is this weird? Talking about this?'

Katara snorts a laugh and the tension dissolves.

'Probably. At this time of night, who knows?' Sitting up, she looks down at him where he lies, the reassurance of looking out to the sea no longer needed. 'Zuko?'

He props himself up on his elbows.

'Yeah?'

'I'm glad that we're talking. Not specifically about this, I mean, but— You know, I'm glad that we...' She leaves the rest unspoken, and a warmth rises in him that has nothing to do with the first rays of sunlight that are showing over the horizon. He smiles, small but genuine.

'I know. Me too.'

This time, the silence is much easier.

She shifts so that they're sat side by side, shoulders touching.

The stars start to fade out as the sun continues to rise.

'You'd think they could've at least gotten your scar on the correct side.'

'_Right?_'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love exploring the different facets of how they interact. I've tried to capture a run of different vibes for them here, as well as getting a bit deeper into the ways in which they're opening up to each other as they become more familiar.
> 
> Let me know what you think! I love feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	2. Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! We're taking a detour and stepping back to The Southern Raiders for a moment. I originally had this as the opening chapter, but something about it just didn't feel like it represented the style or shape that the rest of the fic was taking - it's less an insert into canon and more an examination of Zuko and Katara's perspectives on that part of the story? - BUT I didn't want to lose it from the fic, so I've just shuffled a tad so that it's still here but the fic opens with something a bit more accessible.
> 
> So, without further ado, get ready for some angsty Katara and trying-not-to-be-angsty-anymore-but-sometimes-failing-spectacularly Zuko! These kids, I tell ya...

It starts with the sound of cracking stone rending the air between them.

For some reason, though, it's the medley of rain-like pinging, the almost musical noise of the first bits of debris starting to fall, which catches in Zuko's ears. For a split second, detached from the danger around him, it strikes him that it's a strangely benign sound to herald the collapse of their temporary home. But collapsing it is, and he's pulled brutally back into the moment as the ceiling begins to give way above them.

_She's_ standing there, staring half-horrified and half-resolute at the now shuddering doors of what had seconds ago been their sanctuary. Katara hasn't realised yet that the sky is falling — it seems no one has other than him. Maybe it's his knowledge of Fire Nation attack strategies guiding his gaze in the right direction, or maybe it's just sheer dumb luck that he notices what no one else seems to, but whatever the reason he knows what he knows.

She stands, unfaltering, unaware.

And he runs, throwing Suki to one side away from the fracturing ceiling as he launches himself at Katara.

Hanging there, suspended for a moment in the air, Zuko somehow has the time to think that this was a really, really stupid decision — jumping into the path of what's probably a literal ton of falling rock in an attempt to save the life of a girl who openly hates him is... Well, it's an interesting choice. But he's made it now and it's not as if he can take it back, so he prays to every dragon of old that he has enough momentum to get them both through this without being crushed.

The impact knocks every reverent thought out of him as they land, clear, on the stone floor. The impetus that saved them turns out to be bittersweet as they skid and roll across the rough ground, his body wrapped hard around hers doing only little to shield her from the blows.

They scrape to a stop feet away from the pile of rubble which would've ended her. He aches as though he's just been stampeded over by a sabre-tooth moose lion, and it's only going to hurt more later on, but she's safe under him, her back pressed up against his chest, and she's...

'What are you doing?!'

Angry. Agni's sake, she's _angry_ at him.

But, bizarrely, it doesn't matter that she still seems to hate him, seems to hate the fact that he's the one who just saved her life. As he picks himself up and runs away from her towards the light that glares through the splintered doors, he's left with the certainty that he wouldn't have done those few moments any differently. They feel as though they were unavoidable, and he knows, as stupid a decision as it felt, that it hadn't really been a decision at all.

He hadn't even needed to think.

* * *

Her lungs squeeze in her chest as she makes sense of what Sokka is saying. No. _No,_ she can't say goodbye to their father again, can't watch him walk away from them down that tunnel as if the world isn't already falling apart around them. Every time he leaves, she's weighed down a little more by the thought that it might be the last time she gets the luxury of saying goodbye.

But Appa is unyielding behind her, and the sounds of the Fire Prince and his sister exchanging blows are a dogged reminder of the fact that they all need to get out, _now_. So she hugs him hard, eyes stinging and heart clenched, and turns quickly away so that this time she can be the one who leaves first.

They make it past Azula, the bitter heat of her fire flickering past them around Toph's rock shield, and Katara twists to see her figure shrink away, to make sure that the threat really has passed. As she watches, Azula turns, gaze drawn to the Fire Nation airship which is rising behind her. Her brother stands, defiant, jaw set, and Katara stares at the siblings in their confrontation.

It shakes something in her, watching them face each other like that. Without looking, she feels Sokka's presence behind her, and tries to imagine how it would feel not to have him as the steadfast support that he is; how would it feel, instead, to be locked into a bond so vicious that they could look at one another across a chasm of air and cloud and see only an enemy? The thought twists in her gut and she releases it fast, focussing fleetingly on the bursts of blue and orange light that are now unfurling from the two firebenders below before—

Her attention is torn away by the jolt of Appa sweeping into a sharp upwards turn, balls of flame soaring past them as they climb quickly up and over the top of the Fire Nation airship that was blocking their escape. Relief rushes through her, pulling her hair out behind her as they fall and curve over the other side of the vessel, swinging forwards towards open air and freedom.

But they are not the only ones falling, she realises, and _he_ has no power to right himself.

Somehow, it doesn't feel forced. If she'd had minutes — seconds, even — to think about it, she definitely would've weighed things up more carefully first. It would never have been a question about whether or not she let him fall (because, let's face it, she just didn't have it in her to let someone die like that), so with all the time in the world to think about it, she knows she would've come to the same conclusion.

But — and here's the important part — it wouldn't have felt simple. She wouldn't have been particularly _happy_ about saving the life of the boy who'd tormented them for so long. She would've been clear on every reason behind her actions, none of which would've had anything to do with a concern for him or his safety.

But as she flings out a hand to pull Zuko from the air, Katara doesn't need to think at all. And afterwards, when she does have the time to stop and turn it over in her head, it almost bothers her how easy it was.

* * *

For a moment, as the group laughs at his quip, Zuko almost feels like he's starting to belong, the thought knocked clumsily into place by Aang and Toph's friendly punches, tentatively soldered by the fire crackling in front of them.

Then her words cut through the cheer, a caustic echo of the voice in his own head that still tells him he's wasting his time.

'Yeah, no kidding.'

He doesn't understand. And not in that 'what did he ever do to her?' kind of way. He knows what he did, and how much he did; he knows what he has to repent for. But he's _trying_ to repent, and all the others seem to be finding it easy enough to start welcoming him in now that he's shown them how much he means it. He doesn't get why she's so resistant to him, and he makes sure that she knows that.

'What is it with you?'

When she answers, suddenly it strikes him that perhaps this isn't about his repentance. Perhaps it isn't about _him_ at all.

Sokka's face tautens as he tells Zuko the story, more serious than the other teenager has ever seen him outside of battle. As he speaks, something flickers in the pit of Zuko's stomach — a strange, quaking feeling that feels a bit like nostalgia, only crueller, more nauseating. He doesn't push it away, instead pulling it up to stick firmly in his chest, and he holds it there until she comes out of her tent the next morning.

* * *

It's petty, she knows. But he's sitting in front of her and it's first thing in the morning and everyone _knows_ that waterbenders are night people. She can't deal with him being _right there_ right now so, yes, she reaches for petty, and she's unapologetic about that.

'You look terrible.'

'I waited out here all night.'

The thought does not endear him to her.

'What do you want?' Snapped, tightly. Because really, she doesn't care what he wants, she just wants him to leave her alone.

'I know who killed your mother.' Her heart stutters, hands stall. 'And I'm going to help you find him.'

Perhaps she should be asking him why he cares enough to help. Perhaps she should be asking him what he gets out of it. Perhaps she should be asking _herself_ what she expects to achieve by finding this man.

But she doesn't ask. She doesn't dare.

* * *

He's enabling her, he knows. And he knows, or at least believes, that revenge isn't really what she wants, that it won't bring her the solace she seeks. But hers is a feeling — hers is a _rage_ — that he recognises, and he knows first-hand that it won't be touched by reason. It's taken him far too long to understand that this is why his uncle facilitated all his reckless hunting; not because the old man ever believed Zuko's salvation was in achieving his goal, but because he'd known all along that it wasn't, and that his nephew would need more than just a few earnest words to see that for himself.

So when Aang tells her forgive the man whose memory has tormented her for six years, Zuko raises his eyebrows and twists his voice into something that sounds like derision. Never mind that he knows the younger boy has a point.

Whatever choices Katara's going to make, she needs to make them herself. He's just giving her the opportunity to find out what they are.

He hopes that she doesn't need as many chances as he did to figure things out.

* * *

The moon had always been a comfort to her before now, even more so after Yue rose from the waters of the Spirit Oasis and took her place amongst the stars. Tonight, though, it is cold and unfeeling as it rises above the water, Appa skimming over clouds bathed in the last light of day as it gives way to the night.

The Fire Prince is asleep, sprawled out in the saddle behind her. Or at least he was.

'You should get some rest — we'll be there in a few hours. You'll need all your strength.'

She bites back, rankled by his concern, but her own words open a dam somewhere inside her; all of a sudden, without meaning to, she's telling him all of it, every detail she remembers of the final moments she had with her mother. As she speaks, something rustles at the fringes of her memory, something that feels like recognition — a moment of reflection in a scarred face bathed in pale green light.

She doesn't want it, and pushes it away as hard as she can as she reaches the end of her story.

'Your mother was a brave woman.'

Like she needs him to tell her that. But, she notices, she doesn't hate him for saying it as much as she would've thought.

* * *

They fight together well, each ceding for the other as they make their way through the boat, the need to communicate out loud lost to something more instinctive.

His eyes widen as he watches her bend the body of the Southern Raiders' captain to her will, the man's joints popping as he tries to fight against her control, and for the first time Zuko is gripped by the fear that he's made an awful mistake, that he's led her down this path and now she isn't going to walk it the way he'd expected.

But he _has_ led her here, trusting that she will do the thing that's right for her when it comes to the moment to choose. So he keeps trusting, and he keeps leading.

* * *

The heckled heron of a man studies the path behind him warily, calls out in uncertainty. It's all she needs to know that this time they've gotten it right. She doesn't know what she feels; something too complex to simply name it as anger or pain or anticipation. But then she sees the man's face tense in unease, and it's the same face that she's seen in her nightmares, halfway between waking and sleeping, for the last six years.

Haunted. That's how she feels. And now the ghost is real.

* * *

He sees her breath catch, feels the rain intensify by the pull of the waterbender's emotions as Katara finds out the truth behind her mother's murder, her _sacrifice_. He barely has time to be impressed by her power before admiration makes way for awe; the downpour has stalled under her hold, gravity cowed by her wrath. She looks like she belongs on another plane, a spirit made solid by grief and fury, a Mu-onna forged in reverse. And for a moment it feels as though the storm itself is holding its breath, teetering on the blade's edge, waiting to see which way she will go.

* * *

She holds.

* * *

She launches.

* * *

She stops.

* * *

His hands are clenched into fists so tight that the rain is starting to hiss as it hits him, steam rising from his skin. He'd thought in a flash of stomach-turning, stunned panic that he'd read her wrong, that she was really going to do it.

As she releases the rain from her grasp, he loosens his fists and lets out a quiet, shaking breath, thanking every spirit he can name that this is the way she's destined to go, that her corruption will not be something that sits on his conscience tonight.

He'll take it to his grave that a small part of him — the same part that houses the voice that taunts him when he's on the edge of sleep — pushes him in the direction of the snivelling man who still kneels before him, coaxes him to do what Katara couldn't, mocks him when he walks away leaving the man unscathed in the mud.

* * *

'I didn't spare him. Not really. I just... I couldn't do it.'

She needs him to know that she isn't merciful. She is not superior. She is not transcendent. She needs him to know that this doesn't feel like a victory. It feels sickening, rising in her like bile. She doesn't want to be glorified or praised for this, this failure that rasps in her throat.

'I think it would've hurt more if you had, in the end. But I understand why you wanted to.'

Two days ago — La, two _hours_ ago — she would've rounded on him, asked who was he to tell her what would or wouldn't hurt her, let him know in no uncertain terms that his understanding was not something she needed. But the grate in his voice sounds like the way her hands are shaking, and she thinks perhaps he really, genuinely, _does_ understand, and she thinks perhaps that _is_ what she'd needed this whole time.

It doesn't make her feel any better.

That's the moment she forgives him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this can be the moment you forgive me for all the angst. Honestly, though, this is the only way that I could've covered this episode - it is not a happy day in Katara's life, and I wanted to hold off on any inklings of romantic feelings between them and focus more on them beginning to get each other. In my opinion, it's a really important set-up for things to get better later on. But having said that, I do promise that the next one will be at least a bit less heavy! Until next time!


	3. Evolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was going to be a bit of a filler chapter, and then it ended up getting away from me. Now it's like 500 words longer than the others. I guess I'm just a sucker for seeing these teenagers sitting around doing normal teen things once in a while.
> 
> This takes place somewhere in between the Ember Island Players and part one of Sozin's Comet.

'Okay, okay, I've got one: the moment when your bending first presented itsel—'

'Hey, not everyone here can bend, Katara!'

'Sokka, will you let me finish? The moment when your bending first presented itself _or_ the moment you first felt like a warrior. That work for you?'

'Very nicely, yes.'

Satisfied, her brother settles back onto his cushion, arm moving around Suki, and Katara rolls her eyes despairingly. The group is settled in the main room of the Fire Lord's long-vacant house on Ember Island, lamps lit and the sound of rain, unfamiliar in Fire Nation territory, drumming a soothing tempo on the roof.

It's the first evening they've spent inside since arriving on the island, and whilst it means a temporary interruption to their all-important training, Katara finds that she's savouring the chance for all of them to sit around on dusty floor-mats and talk and laugh and drink tea, the smell of the storm drifting in through the windows and sweeping out the mustiness that seems to cling to the neglected house.

'Well, we all know how Toph learned to earthbend,' Aang pipes up from his spot across from her. 'She already told us about running away from her parents and meeting the badgermoles.'

The young earthbender is stretched out flat on her back on the floor to Katara's left, arms cushioning her head and pale eyes grinning sightlessly at the ceiling.

'I told you I learned from them, Twinkletoes, I never said anything about the first time I actually managed it,' she retorts. 'I was six and bending had never even been mentioned in my house before, so it was completely new. But it was so natural for them, just a part of their lives, and it made sense to me. I went back home to my parents that evening, but every night after that I'd sneak out and follow them through their tunnels.

'By the fourth trip, I could feel the earth paying attention to what I was doing, and I got so excited about it that I sent a rock straight into the nose of one of the badgermoles that had been guiding me. For a second I was scared, but they just flicked stones back at me so I could keep practising.' Her face crinkles at the memory. 'Turns out they're used to getting hit, when they're teaching their own litters how to bend — they just treated me like any other badgermole pup who didn't know what it was doing.'

Aang's eyes are wide with awe.

'Wow, Toph, that's even better than the first time you told it.'

Sokka sniggers.

'Yeah, and at least you were _trying_ to bend instead of throwing a tantrum like Katara was when she first bent water.'

'Sokka!' Katara feels her chest brim instantly with indignation and leans forwards, glaring at her brother. 'That is _not_ what happened, and you know it. _You_ put snowballs in my boots.'

'Yeah, and then _you_ threw a tantrum about it.' Sokka leans into the circle and covers his mouth conspiratorially, voice dropping into a stage-whisper. 'Funnily enough, the snow did not help her cool off.'

'I was five and I'd just stuck my foot into a boot half-full of melted snow, any normal person would've gotten upset!' She fixes her attention on the rest of the group, their amused gazes moving back and forth between the siblings. A smile starts playing on her own face. 'I shrieked and threw the boot on the floor, and as I turned to yell at Sokka all the slush came flying out of it and hit him in the face.'

The group breaks into laughter as Sokka comes up onto his knees and raises his hand to point at Katara.

'Aha! So you admit that without me you wouldn't have discovered your bending. You are welcome.'

The waterbender, now laughing herself, brings a hand to her chest and injects a heavy dose of sarcasm into her voice.

'Well, thank you, my _dearest_ brother, for helping me find the power to douse you in cold water whenever you get too annoying.'

On her right, Zuko snorts.

Suki giggles from her seat next to Sokka and lays a hand on his back.

'If that's what it takes then I'm surprised you don't spend more time in wet clothes.'

He turns to her, appalled.

'Suki! You're meant to be on my side!'

'I have no idea where you got that impression.' She laughs again at the look on his face, then tugs on his arm to bring him back down to sitting, silently appeasing him with a long stroke down from his shoulder to wind her fingers in his. 'Tell us about the first time you felt like a warrior.'

The teenager's face relaxes, turning pensive at the request.

'You know, if you'd asked me a year ago, I would've said that I always felt like a warrior because that's what Dad was. Or it would've been the day he gave me my boomerang.' His eyes take on a faraway look, glazed in memory. 'That day sucked pretty hard, because I knew that he was leaving with the fleet to go and fight, but I also felt like he was passing the protection of the tribe over to me.'

Katara notices the way that Suki watches him as he talks, her smile half-teasing, half-doting, eyes warm. It stirs something in her; a swell of happiness for what Sokka has found, but at the same time a sharp pang of longing for something similar herself. It never used to be a desire that snagged at her all that frequently, the pressures of the war taking up most of her headspace, but recently certain — her eyes flicker briefly to Aang before landing back on Sokka — _events_ had pushed it closer to the forefront of her mind.

Now it feels as though her head is almost constantly buzzing with questions — even when it's just happening quietly at the edges of her thoughts, it's still there.

She's pulled back to the conversation as her brother keeps talking.

'But now I think my answer's changed. Back when we were based in Ba Sing Se, before we realised that Azula and her cronies had taken over and you guys got thrown into that crystal cave place—' He waves offhandedly in the direction of Katara and Zuko. '—I had gone out to find Dad in Chameleon Bay. Four Fire Nation ships were spotted just off the coast and Dad told everyone to prepare to fight. He said, "the rest of you men, get ready for battle". He meant me, too.'

Katara feels a smile spread across her face at his words.

'Sokka. I know how much it must have meant for Dad to include you like that.'

'Yeah,' he says, dipping his head, 'it really did.'

Suki leans forward and rests her chin on Sokka's shoulder.

'That was really sweet.'

He bumps the side of his head lightly against hers.

'Your turn, then. When did you first feel like you knew what you were doing?' He laughs. 'Bet it was something crazy like saving a bunch of orphans from a gang of bandits on goat gorillas, right?'

She pulls back from him, a self-conscious smile quirking her mouth.

'Actually, something kinda like that, yeah. Not quite as dramatic.'

Toph pushes up so that she's sitting, legs still stretched out in front of her, hands fisted in anticipation.

'Finally, someone with something exciting to tell us. Not that your corny story wasn't thrilling, Snoozles.'

She leans over and thumps him hard on the leg, ignoring his squawk of pain and indignation as she settles back again to listen to Suki's story.

'Okay, so I started training as a Kyoshi warrior when I was eight — I was the oldest student in my village, so by the time I was twelve I was teaching some of the younger girls. Every couple of months, we would travel to the main port so that we could convene with the more senior members and learn some more advanced techniques, stuff like that.'

'Advanced fan fighting, wooh, yeah!' cheers Sokka. Suki shoots him a look that's a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

'You could call it that. Anyway, I was a couple of weeks off my fourteenth birthday, and we were all staying at the capital training centre. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk around the port — it must've been the early hours of the morning by then. As I was coming around one of the bends towards the main street, I heard voices. The accents were strange, definitely not Kyoshi locals, and I stopped to eavesdrop on what they were saying.'

By now, the group is still, listening intently to Suki's story.

'They were talking about breaking into the governor's house, with plans to kidnap his son and hold him for ransom.'

'Pirates,' Zuko asserts quietly.

'But wait, what about the unagi?' Katara cuts in. 'Surely no pirates in their right minds would try to land on Kyoshi?'

Suki shrugs.

'The unagi isn't failsafe. Sometimes people get past it — I mean, you guys did without even knowing it was there. Most pirates steer clear of the island, but occasionally we get some that are a bit braver or more stupid and give it a shot.'

'I'm assuming these ones were the stupid kind?' guesses Katara.

'They didn't strike me as being particularly intelligent, no. But they'd made it that far and they sounded as though they meant business. There wasn't time to go for help, so...'

The group sits in anticipation.

'So... what?' Aang asks after a couple of moments, face curious and eager.

Suki shrugs again, her cheeks flushing slightly.

'So I took them out myself.'

There's silence for a moment.

'How many?' Zuko queries, causing Suki to shuffle awkwardly on her mat.

'Five?' It comes out sounding like a question.

'_Five?_' exclaims Sokka, jumping up from his seat and gesturing wildly at his girlfriend. 'You took out _five_ fully-grown men in hand-to-hand combat when you were _thirteen_?'

'Almost fourteen!' Suki shoots back, bordering on defensive. 'And pirates can be young and female too, Sokka.'

'Yeah, but were they?' Toph interjects, her face lit up.

Suki takes a breath, holds, then sighs in defeat.

'No.'

'So you took out five fully-grown men in hand-to-hand combat when you were thirteen.'

There's a whistle to Katara's right as Zuko exhales hard.

'Impressive. If you're up for sparring sometime, it's been a while since I really worked on my non-bending stuff.'

'Hey, any time you fancy getting beaten then just let me know, Princey Pants.'

Sokka dives back to the floor and throws his arms around the Kyoshi warrior.

'I am with the _coolest girl_. Really bad at nicknames, but other than that just _so_ cool.'

The girl in question drops her head into him, chuckling lightly, the awkwardness still bright on her face. Moonlight streams through the window behind them, the rain now passed and clouds dissipated, and Aang looks around their circle.

'Everyone has such good stories. I just always knew I was an airbender.'

'Really?' queries Katara. 'Always?'

The young monk lifts a shoulder and nods.

'All the Air Nomads are benders, we're all raised with it — before I left the Southern Temple I'd never met anyone who couldn't airbend. I just grew up playing with mini-gliders and sneezing hard enough to blow out lamps across the other side of the room. It was pretty great.'

'It sounds like it.' Aang's face splits into a wide grin at Katara's words.

'This is why it was such a trek getting you on top of earthbending, Twinks — the airbender was so deep in you that it took Sokka's life being in danger to drag out anything else.'

'Yeah, and I did not appreciate being used like that, thank you!'

'Pipe down, Snoozles.'

Aang lets out a short, light-hearted laugh, then turns to face Zuko.

'You're up, Sifu Hotman!'

The name draws a wince from the dark-haired teenager, and chuckles ripple around the rest of the group. He leans forwards, one elbow resting on his knee as he reaches for the long-cold tea sitting on the floor in between him and Katara. As if only for something to do, he pours as he addresses Aang.

'I was never a natural like you; that was always my sister.'

The effect on the younger boy is immediate, his face paling at the comparison.

'Azula? I'm like Azula?'

'That's not what I'm saying,' Zuko counters evenly. 'I just mean that it took longer than would've been good for my bending to present itself.'

'You mean you haven't always been so full of hot air?' Sokka jumps in, and the others groan at his poorly-placed joke, Toph reaching out to punch him again. Aang keeps his attention on Zuko.

'How long?'

'I was almost five.'

The room erupts into noise, everyone disputing Zuko's words.

'That's younger me and Sugar Queen over here.'

'Four years old is pretty early for someone to present as a bender, isn't it?'

'I thought you were gonna say you were _twelve_ or something.'

'No, you guys don't understand.' The room quiets again. 'When I was young, my father was convinced that I wasn't a firebender. He told me once, years later, that I wasn't born with that "spark in my eyes", and that he had planned to cast me from the palace — it would've brought immense shame on the family for the heir to the Fire Nation throne to be a non-bender. My mother and the Fire Sages stopped him, persuaded him to give me a chance.'

He's not speaking with the same sense of torment that Katara knows would've been heavy in his words before — now he's just stating the facts, telling them a part of his story that he's already well along the path to outgrowing.

The gang sits in shocked silence for a moment, digesting what he's just said.

'Wow, Zuko,' Aang croaks into the quiet, 'is there any part of your backstory that isn't... You know...'

'Horribly tragic?' Katara quips, an edge of a joke in her voice, a suppressed smile that looks something like a challenge on her face.

Over the last weeks, she's come to understand the firebender's sense of humour, dry and cracked like earth under a hot sun, and she's rewarded now by the glint that comes into Zuko's eyes as his eyebrow quirks in her direction.

'How do you think I got like this?'

He's just out of arm's reach, but Katara nudges him in the ribs with her foot and he chuckles in response.

Sokka's eyes flick back and forth between them.

'Okay, horribly tragic life — weird thing to joke about, guys, but whatever. You still haven't told us how you discovered you could bend.'

'Right. So like I said, it had been obvious that my sister was a bender almost since she was born — she was always shooting sparks from her fingers and breathing out smoke when she got upset — but she couldn't control it very well until she was older. One day when we were playing inside, she accidentally set fire to some curtains. I grabbed the candle out of a nearby lamp and pulled the flames from the fabric to the candle without even thinking about it. The curtains were fine and Azula didn't get in trouble with our mother.'

Katara leans back on her elbows as Zuko speaks, watching his face as he reminisces. His mouth is pulled into an uneven smile, hands twitching in his lap as if to mimic the movements of his younger self.

She feels her own face soften, warmth tweaking the corners of her lips as her eyes move over him. He catches her gaze and looks back at her warily.

'What?'

Katara's eyebrows raise, the smile stuck on her face.

'Oh, nothing. It's just, discovering your firebending because you were trying to keep your sister from getting into trouble?' She prods him again with her foot. 'I never knew the Fire Prince was such a big softie at heart.'

His eyes narrow good-humouredly, scarred face twisting over the expression.

'He isn't. Keep sticking your foot in his side and you'll find out.'

She laughs, jaw setting defiantly, and the ball of her foot momentarily meets his ribs again before his hand shoots out and locks itself around her ankle. They scramble briefly, him grabbing for her other foot and her snorting with laughter as she kicks out, trying to get free. And it's all just playing along (because, really, what's he actually going to do?), but it feels good to let go of their more serious selves that have had to grow up all too fast in the face of war.

It feels good to just joke around without thoughts of Sozin's Comet clouding the evening.

It feels good to see his eyes light in a way that she doesn't think she's seen before now.

Zuko tugs hard on her ankle, pulling her across the floor towards him as he fights to hold on through her struggling, and then she's drawing the fluid out of everyone's cups and holding it in a flash-cooled, icy ball over his head.

'Let me go, or by the spirits...'

'You think a cup of water is a threat?'

'I think the things I can do with it are.'

He huffs, but releases his hold nonetheless, eyes still dancing behind his fringe of dark hair.

As they settle back onto their floor-mats, Katara becomes abruptly aware that the rest of the group is staring, expressions ranging from bemused to entertained.

'What?' she queries, the last traces of laughter still turning in her voice.

'Was that Sparky laughing just then?' Toph sticks a finger in her ear and twists it aggressively. 'I think my ears are malfunctioning.'

'Your ears are working just fine, Toph, Zuko's the one malfunctioning,' Sokka remarks, eyebrows halfway towards his hairline.

'I could go back to talking about how the universe hates me, if you want.'

'See! He never would've said that before. _He's becoming self-aware_.'

'Sokka, let the poor guy laugh at stuff.'

'There you go again — seriously, you're meant to be on my side!'

Katara can't help but notice that Aang is uncharacteristically quiet, eyes flitting between her and Zuko, perplexed. She catches his gaze and frowns questioningly, but he turns quickly away and addresses the rest of the group with a forced cheeriness.

'Well, that's that question answered — anyone got another one?'

Outside the window, the clouds are rolling in again and the rain starts up once more. The buzzing in Katara's head gets louder, and it won't let up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, Sokka and Aang are tricky. I was really pushing myself here, 'cause group scenes are absolutely not my favourites to write, but it ended up feeling like a necessary part in the story, so there you go.


	4. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it only took her three times as long as the previous chapters. I'm not gonna lie, I struggled this week - I've been working a lot and been down with a disgusting cold, so I've barely had the time to write properly, but even when I did... I dunno y'all, this one was not forthcoming for some reason. Every time I tried to write it, I'd just end up writing bits of other things.
> 
> Anyway, we've reached the first part of Sozin's Comet!

The sun is halfway into its descent through the sky, shadows moving across the courtyard as Aang and Zuko stand opposite each other, readying for another lesson.

'There's one technique you need to know before facing my father: how to redirect lightning.'

Sat on the steps that border the square, Katara sees the airbender's face light up. Zuko sinks into a stance that looks oddly similar to her own starting position when waterbending, and begins demonstrating the form used to turn ice-hot power through the body and blast it back at the person who created it.

'If you let the energy in your own body flow, the lightning will follow it. You turn your opponent's energy against them.'

His movements strike a familiarity in her, so it doesn't really come as a surprise when he confirms that the technique was inspired by observing waterbenders at work.

As she watches the two boys move in tandem, Aang now copying Zuko's actions, she's struck by the differences between them.

The former stands a full arrowed head shorter than his teacher, all big eyes and long limbs that he has yet to grow fully into, moving with a grace that belies his apparent youthfulness. It's fitting, Katara thinks, for someone so naive and yet so insightful, someone so gentle and carefree at heart and yet so timeworn and burdened by responsibility. But his appearance only hints at the incredible history and power that he holds — he would be all too easy to underestimate for those not paying attention.

By contrast, the defected heir to the Fire Nation throne wears his story on every part of him. Lean and solid, jaded and scarred from years of conflict, he nonetheless retains some sense of imperial poise, jaw sharp and chin lifted. He is more man than boy now, more world-wearied than any sixteen-year-old should be, but a glint in his golden eyes tells of an exuberance that he is only now beginning to find again after too long pushing it aside.

They move in parallel in the courtyard, two distinct dichotomies, and for a short time they are balanced, stable. Then come Zuko's words, dark and foreboding.

'You'll have to take the Fire Lord's life, before he takes yours.'

With that, Katara feels the equilibrium shift, the tension sink in. Zuko walks away into the house, and she's left watching as Aang deflates into himself, the weight of duty bearing down once again. She's not sure there's anything she can say that will make it better.

* * *

_This isn't enough._

Zuko and Katara are fighting alongside each other again, scaling their way up the craggy hill to where Toph is standing, gleeful, as she tosses flaming rocks in their direction. But as much as she's enjoying her role—

'I am not Toph, I am _Melon Lord_!' Zuko rolls his eyes as he sprints for his next point of cover.

As much as she's _revelling_ in her role, and casually putting them all in what could reasonably be called mortal danger in the process, he knows it doesn't come close to what they'll really be facing in three days' time.

_This is nowhere _near_ enough_.

But then, he thinks, it isn't really about the realism of it all — this drill isn't for them, it's for Aang. And if this is what the kid needs to understand what has to be done to defeat the Fire Lord, he's happy to run through the motions as many times as is needed.

He tilts, swerving away from Katara to avoid another of the earthbender's pitches before converging back on their route up the hill. They're halted in their progress for a fleeting moment by a ring of stone soldiers, closing in on them swiftly from all sides. He feels rather than sees Katara's movements behind him as they back into each other, rallying wordlessly to reduce their marks to dust in a matter of seconds, and then they're running again, each trusting the other to match pace.

'Now, Aang!'

Zuko hears the command, watches the young monk as he flies towards their target— And then slackens, exasperated, as Aang falters at the last moment.

'What are you waiting for? Take him out!'

'I can't.'

And he's readying himself to be _that guy_ again — the one who hauls out the heavy truths, who raises his voice and lowers the mood and reminds everyone of the cost of war that they so desperately want to overlook.

But then Sokka is stalking up the last stretch of hill to place himself between Aang and their hastily-erected dictator, and _he's_ the one who takes that hit, his usually excitable demeanour lost momentarily to the humourlessness of someone forced to lead too young. Zuko knows the feeling. Sokka's sword flashes in the dying light, and it's a grim victory to see that he isn't the only one who understands how war really operates.

* * *

The last dregs of sun are streaked across the sky, clouds stained in colour as the day comes to an end. Steep lines of shadow creep along the cracks in the cliff that shelters the house, pushed back only briefly with each burst of flame that erupts in the courtyard.

Catching the flashes of light through the door, Katara lays down the flint that she had just picked up to start dinner, and makes her way outside.

She's met by the sight of Zuko, alone, running through strings of complex firebending katas which send him spinning across the square. His shirt lies flung onto the steps that lead down from the house, and frustration is roiling off his bare shoulders, shadows flickering across the muscles in his back with the torque and release of his movements.

It stalls her, for some reason, the breath that was about to become words catching somewhere at the back of her tongue and holding for a few airless seconds, before coming loose in a single, disconcerting exhale as her lungs remember how to function. Heat rushes to her face and she wavers on the steps, halfway between leaving and not leaving for a moment, before turning stiffly back towards the house, her feet somehow not stepping as surely as she tells them to.

'Did you want something?'

She feels her shoulders tighten under his words, her movements still clumsy as she twists back towards him. The flames have abated for a moment, Zuko moving easily through a few steps of transition before his next set, and Katara turns her gaze to the trees, the cliff... Anything but him.

'I—' Swallowing the uncertainty that sticks in her throat, she wills her voice to come out sounding normal. 'No, actually, I just thought perhaps Aang might be out here. I wanted to make sure he was okay.'

Zuko only grunts in response, punching out a rapid stream of fire blasts at the wall opposite him. The irritation that rises off him like steam pulls her eyes back to him, relief loosening the tension in her neck as she feels her awkwardness give way to something simpler, more familiar.

'You're working hard.'

At that, the teenager straightens up and turns to frown at her, annoyance scored into the lines of his face.

'Everyone should be. The comet comes in three days, Katara — three days before my dad and his soldiers sear the Earth Kingdom out of existence.' He huffs and settles back into his stance. 'Running forms isn't ideal at this point, but seeing as the Avatar is losing his head over things it's the best I've got.'

'Is calling him "the Avatar" your way of trying to make it seem like you don't care about him?'

'What?' His scowl deepens, taking on a note of petulance. 'No.'

'He's really struggling, Zuko. The whole idea of ending a life— I _know_, I know that it looks like it's the only option at this point, but he needs time to sort it out.'

'Well, he doesn't _have_ time! He _has_ three days, and that's time he should be spending training, not searching for spiritual exemption.'

She raises an eyebrow and stays silent for a moment, Zuko's words echoing faintly off the rocks around them as he rubs at the back of his neck and turns, aggravated, away from her. She waits a few seconds more before speaking.

'You know, Aang isn't the only person you can practise bending with around here.' He pauses, tilts his head back in her direction. 'I could help out with that. If you want.'

He's quiet for a second, as if thrown by her change in subject.

'Really?'

'I mean, it's not as if we haven't fought each other before, right?' She steps down onto the stones of the courtyard, shooting a wry look over her shoulder at Zuko as she crosses to stand opposite him. 'It'll be like old times.'

There's a hint of a smile in his eyes as he appraises her.

'Hopefully not too much.'

A determined grin spills across her face, and she brings her arms up in front of her, palms open, relaxed and ready. The back of her neck is already prickling, feeling the pull from the river that winds its way seaward through the forest bordering the house.

'Go on, then — give me your best shot.'

Everything is still for a moment.

Then Zuko steps forward and launches into his first offence. He doesn't hold back, firing out a blazing volley of fire in her direction, one after the other, and Katara finds herself having to dart out of the way before she's brought any water into the fight at all.

But as she moves, one arm curls back, the other arching in the space above her head as she sways the path of the river behind her, summoning a wave that roars out from the trees and almost knocks her opponent off his feet.

She leaps into a run, using the momentum to pull more water along with her before she lets it take her in its current, bending in a wide arc around the firebender so that he's forced to turn in order to follow her movements.

A stream of fire bursts through the swell that carries her, her support dissipating into the air. She drops hard, but her feet are sure as they find the ground and she lands with her palms planed in his direction, pushing forwards to try and force him back into a defensive stance.

They dance around the courtyard, weaving in and out through each other's strikes, steam pluming up into the air at the points where their forces meet.

A particularly blistering flash of heat sends her into a hasty spin, and when she comes back around to face him she falters for a split-second, balance caught just barely by hours of training worked slowly into her muscle memory — the silver of the moon is gleaming across the planes of Zuko's body, throwing sharp highlights across his face. Glowing drops of water fall from the dark untidiness of his hair, and he looks like something surreal, almost unearthly, a creature of the sun swimming in moonlight.

She's left off-kilter, unready to meet his next round of fire, and the most she can do is defend against the blows as he pushes her one, two, three steps back. Grounding lost, she thinks she's done, out of the game.

But then her back foot finds a place to plant itself, and she's only been pushed closer to the tree line and the stream that flows there, and her focus is back.

Turning low and fast, Katara feels the tugging on her skin as the water follows her. She steps out of the spin, her weight shifting to her front foot, and both hands drive forwards, hard, in Zuko's direction. The river water surges around her in an immersing, unrelenting rush that douses any attempt he makes at defending himself, forcing him back until he meets the wall of the house and there's nowhere left to go.

Katara moves with the water, _through_ it, and then she's there, hand pinning him hard to the wall, icy shard held strong at his neck.

Even in losing, his eyes are burning with the thrill of the fight, breath coming in deep pulls now that the onslaught of water has subsided. They're locked in their final frame, Katara's hold not loosened by her victory, adrenaline still running sharp in her veins.

His voice sounds distant through the thrumming of her blood in her ears.

'I almost had you there, for a second.'

The moment yields, and she relaxes her grip, face softening into a smile as she steps back from him.

'Almost. But the moon is out.'

She busies herself with drawing the water out her clothes, pulling it through her hair to rinse out the sweat as she moves away towards the house, but his words follow her, making her stop and look back at him in confusion.

'You don't need to do that, you know.'

'Do what?'

He makes his way past her to where his shirt lies, shaking the grit out of it before pulling it back over his shoulders and tying it closed.

'Play down your win, say you beat me because of the moon. You know how good you are.'

His gaze is, in some way, more intense now than it had been during their match. She crosses her arms and cocks her head, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth even as she feels herself tipping once again onto unsolid ground.

'I guess I do.'

'In that case, you don't have to try to make me feel better about losing to you. There's no shame in an honest defeat.'

'Where'd you get that from, a fortune cookie?'

'My uncle.' His lips quirk. 'Which is pretty much the same thing, really.'

She laughs out loud at that, bumping his shoulder with hers as she draws level and they head together up the steps back into the house.

'Well, I guess you're just going to have to step up your game next time.'

For a moment, the weight of her words hits her as she realises that they may well be nearing the point where there is no more _next time_, that in a matter of days everything will have changed completely, for better or worse. His jaw tightens and she knows that he's thinking the same thing, but then he lets loose a quiet breath and looks sideways at her, and his smile is bittersweet.

'I plan to.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I just really wish we could've seen more of them interacting day-to-day. Please let me know what you thought, particularly given that this was bloody ordeal to write! Hopefully I'll get my words back for the next one.


	5. Ache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this bug has really been giving me a run for my money, guys. It seems like every year or so I catch something that just knocks me right off my perch for a good week at least, but this one is super persistent. I work with kids, which I'm pretty sure is the source of basically any bug I ever catch, but I'm holding out hope that one day my immune system will catch up with my job and then I'll be grand. Right now, no such luck.
> 
> But anyway, we're on the second part of Sozin's Comet! And we're back with Zuko again.

It had been his idea to camp outside the wall of Ba Sing Se for the night, and he stands by that decision — they've travelled for a full day, following June across the Earth Kingdom and ending up outside its capital a couple of hours after nightfall.

Sokka falls impressively unconscious almost immediately, his loud snores resounding off the vast plane of stone that looms over them, and the others drift off in his wake, the call for some much-needed rest pulling them in quickly.

Katara twitches a few feet away, restless in sleep.

But Zuko has been drifting in and out, his mind plagued by thoughts of his uncle's face the last time they saw each other; with any luck, they'll have found him before the comet hits tomorrow, and Zuko can't force down the dread that swirls in the pit of his stomach at the thought of facing the man whom he'd let down so crushingly before.

He draws in a sharp breath as he feels the weight of his betrayal bear down on him, the guilt prickling across his skin like fire ants.

'Zuko?'

The whisper is unexpected, and as Katara lifts her head and rolls to face him from her spot on Appa's back leg, he thinks perhaps she hasn't been asleep this whole time.

'Yeah.'

'You're still awake.'

Any other night, he may well have pulled out his fears and laid them in front of her, knowing she'd know what he needed to hear, but tonight is different. Tonight, they're on the precipice of a confrontation that's been a year in the making for all of them, a clash whose outcome will sway the balance of the whole world. Now isn't the time.

So he deflects.

'So are you. Waterbending stuff again?'

'Not tonight.' She shifts up into a sitting position and turns to face him fully, her face twisted in a grimace under the moonlight. 'My shoulder's aching like hell. It's making it hard to get comfortable.'

A couple of days previous, Katara had been sparring with Toph in the courtyard — the two of them had been pushing hard to one-up the other, when a sudden twist and swing of her arm had pulled something in her shoulder and stopped her short.

Zuko sits up.

'I thought you healed that?'

She shakes her head glumly.

'I tried. I iced it when it first happened, but it's in just the wrong place for me to be able to reach it properly, and now it's stiffened up so much that there's no chance of me getting a hand close enough to heal it.' Her left hand reaches absentmindedly across to the opposite side of her neck, as if trying to prove herself wrong. 'I was going to make a hot poultice for it tonight, try to loosen it up, but we don't really have any of the stuff I'd need to be able to do that, so...'

There's silence for a moment, and Zuko clasps his hands together, feeling the heat in them rise almost involuntarily as he looks at her.

'I might be able to help.'

Her gaze flits back to him, mild surprise lifting her eyebrows.

'You know, I hadn't even thought of that.' She pauses, studying him across the gap between them. 'If you could then that could be really useful.'

'It won't fix it.'

'No, I know. It'll have tightened up again by morning. I think when it matters I'll be able to fight past it — I mean, I'll probably pay for it afterwards but that's how it is. For now I'd just really like to be able to get some sleep before tomorrow.'

She sounds almost apologetic, uncomfortable, as if she were the one to suggest it in the first place and now she's worried that he'll think she's imposing. And although he's quick to alleviate that concern by gesturing her over, Zuko feels what he assumes is a similar sense of self-consciousness sweep over him as she stands from her seat.

It strikes him, somewhat suddenly, that he's never really _touched_ her before.

Okay, so that might be an exaggeration — casual contact has become much more commonplace between the two of them over the previous weeks, working its way into their day-to-day lives as they've gotten more comfortable with each other. But it's always been functional or joking or, if neither of those, fleeting.

This is much more... _deliberate_, and he feels less grounded, less solid than he would like. Intimacy, in any form, has never really been his strong point, and the sense settles over him, insubstantial and alien enough that it doesn't quite take root in conscious thought, that there is a whole basket of turtleduck eggs just waiting to be spilled at this particular juncture.

It comes as a stark relief when, as she perches on Appa's leg in front of him, the teasing note in Katara's voice brings him back into the moment.

'You'd better not set my hair on fire.'

He bites back a laugh and injects a tone of seriousness into his words.

'There is a small risk of that.'

'What?' Tensing, she twists to look at him, her movement limited by the stiffness in her back, and sees the poorly-concealed smile that slants his face. She rolls her eyes and huffs slightly as she turns back around. 'Funny. Anyone ever tell you how funny you are?'

'Surprisingly, not a trait that I'm known for.'

She snorts, her good arm coming up to pull her hair off her back and over her shoulder, and for a second Zuko hesitates. Because, in truth, this sort of thing works best with skin-to-skin contact, but that's really, _really_ not something that he wants to voice out loud in this moment, so he keeps his mouth shut and lays a hand over the spot where her tunic follows the edge of her right shoulder blade.

He can practically feel her heart beating through the back of her chest, faster than he would've expected. Carefully, he wills heat into his palm, acutely aware that if he pushes too hard then he'll end up singeing the cloth beneath his hand. His fingers wander gently around the ridges of her shoulder, searching for the source of her pain.

'Where am I going, here?'

She rolls her shoulder back, and he feels the muscles beneath his hand ripple.

'Lower down, a little more to the left.'

A sharp intake of breath tells him when he's found the right point, about halfway down between her spine and shoulder blade, and he presses his thumb more firmly over the tight knot of tissue that sits beneath her skin. Focussing, he directs a stronger pulse of heat through that spot, the rest of his hand still spread across her back, tips of his fingers curling over the top of her shoulder.

Katara leans away from him slightly at the sensation, and he brings his other hand up to her good shoulder to pull her gently back towards him, steadying her against the pressing of his fingers.

'Wow, that actually feels like it's working.'

'You don't need to sound so surprised.'

'Looks like we've finally found a use for you around here.'

He can hear the smile in her voice, and chuckles good-naturedly.

'I am _not_ working the kinks out of Sokka's neck when he complains that he's slept on it weirdly.'

'What? But he'd be so grateful!'

'Yeah, and I'm sure Appa would be grateful for a work-up on his tail after a day of flying. Doesn't mean I'm going to do it.'

They both laugh at that, careful not to wake the others, then fall into a companionable silence as Zuko continues to probe at the dense pocket of muscle in her back.

It's a couple of minutes before she speaks again.

'Don't think I didn't notice that you avoided telling me what's keeping you up.'

He feels himself tense a little, inadvertently increasing the pressure he's putting on the knot under his thumb, and she gasps out a laugh.

'Ow, alright, I get it! You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.'

'Sorry.'

'No, it's okay.' A sigh, and her voice quietens a little, becoming more sincere. 'It's a big night. I don't think any of us feel normal right now.' A particularly loud snore sounds from the direction of Appa's tail. 'Although Sokka's giving it a pretty good shot.'

'Yeah, your brother is something else.'

Zuko turns his attention to the hand still pressed against her shoulder, working his thumb up the side of her spine from the point where it'd previously been focussed. She shifts, and some of her hair spills down across her back. He reaches up automatically to push it out of the way again just as she does the same, and their hands meet briefly at the back of her neck before she pulls quickly away, as if burned.

He stills, breath catching in his chest and mouth opening and closing silently for a second before words come.

'Sorry, I—'

'No, it's okay. Go ahead.'

Her voice sounds different, tauter, and she clears her throat quietly before falling silent. He doesn't know if not being able to see her face is making things worse or better.

Bringing his hand up again, he pulls her hair to the side, fingers grazing across the nape of her neck as he draws it off her back and over her left shoulder. She pulls in a tight breath, but otherwise she's still, frozen; he can feel the muscles in her back, solid under the hand that still sits there.

'Um, can you—'

'Yeah, yeah, of course.'

She reaches back and gathers up the hair that he holds, securing it out of the way, and her fingers brush over his again as she does so. This time, he's the one who pulls back.

It's new, this flicker in his gut, this tightness that winds itself around his throat and squeezes down on his ribs.

Or, rather... Not _new_ new. He's felt it before, a couple of times, just not with her. And, looking back, he doesn't think it's ever been quite so confusing or daunting or downright inconvenient before. Because, spirits, they're in the middle of a _war_, and Agni knows they've been through enough just to get to a place where they can talk and laugh and be open with each other, and he hasn't really thought about it before now but it strikes him abruptly and with irrefutable certainty that Katara is someone he sort of really _needs_ in his life.

He never liked that idea before — the thought of needing people. But over the past couple of months or so, he's had to make peace with the fact that he does. It's been pretty inescapable.

He needs his uncle, however sharply undeserving he may feel of the old man's love right now.

He needs his mother, as she exists in his memory, held tight across years of bad choices and bitter shame.

He needs the people sleeping around him now, each of them in their own way — something he neither expected nor intended.

And he needs her. The realisation is heavy and kind of terrifying, because of course he's only just coming to this conclusion right as he's feeling this other new _thing_, something which could wind its way in and crack the closeness that has taken so much to build.

No. No way, not happening. He's not going to risk all that for one moment of... what, attraction? Desire?

He blinks hard, honing his attention in once again on the hand that rests against her back, resuming the path that his thumb had been tracking up the edge of her spine.

When she speaks, he's relieved to hear that her voice sounds normal again.

'You know you're moving away from the sore part, right?'

When he speaks, he's relieved to hear that his voice sounds normal too.

'Just trust me, it'll help.'

He presses down, and there's a second knot under his thumb, sitting at the spot where the muscle that runs up the side of her spine meets the back of her head.

'Ow! Spirits—' A choked laugh, a quick glance around the campsite to check she hasn't woken anyone. 'Yeah, okay, I believe you.'

He feels his lips press together in a smile as he pushes more heat through his fingers. The tension is still sitting, weighty, in his chest, but it starts to ease as they step back into known territory.

'You should do that more often — I'm usually right.'

'Really? That's what you're going with? Mr. _The-Universe-Hates-Me_ is bragging right now?'

'I'm sometimes right.'

She chuckles at the amendment, then falls silent for a second. Frowning, Zuko feels her neck begin to tighten up again under his fingers, and he presses more heat through into her skin in an attempt to remedy it.

'Zuko? Can I ask—' She pauses for a second, and her next words come haltingly, a failed shot at sounding casual. 'Why did June think I was your girlfriend?'

Oh.

Katara shifts awkwardly in front of him.

'She said it before as well, back when you first used her to help you find us.'

Crap.

The air feels thick again, and that weight that pulls on his lungs is back, and jeez, this is exactly the sort of thing he doesn't need right now. His hand drops away from her, coming to rest in his lap as he pulls back, the contact between them broken.

'Um, okay. Back when I hired her to find Aang, I— I needed to give her shirshu a scent to track. At that point, I still had your necklace after, um... You remember—'

'The time you tied me to a tree and tried to use my mother's missing necklace to bribe me into telling you where Aang was?' He feels himself relax just a little as she deadpans, turning to eye him side-on, brow cocked. 'It rings a bell, yes.'

'Right, uh... Right. It was the only thing I had that I thought would work. She just kind of assumed that I was looking for some girl who'd, you know... left me,' he finishes lamely.

Katara releases a breath that isn't quite a laugh.

'You can't have done a very good job briefing her, if she thought it was me you were looking for instead of Aang.'

'I tried. She was difficult to dissuade.'

He hears her take in a slow breath, then she turns, twisting where she sits to face him properly. She meets his eyes, blue on gold, and oh _man_ is he in Ba Sing Se without a map. It's not like he's blind — he's seen plenty of pretty girls before and he's never held any delusion that Katara isn't one of them, but this is the first time he's noticed it quite so acutely.

She's not saying anything, not looking away, eyes skimming over his face, and he thinks she looks just about as uncertain as he feels.

It passes through his mind that they both seem to be holding their breath.

Her lips part, and his eyes flick down to her mouth for a split-second before jumping back up to meet her gaze again. She inhales, as if readying to speak, then stops, her brow furrowing slightly as she looks suddenly away.

'Hey.' Her hand moves up to the nape of her neck, and she looks back at him, face clearing with realisation. 'I can turn properly.'

He's thrown, left reeling by the whiplash of the last few seconds, but he can't help responding to her smile with a slightly mystified one of his own.

She slips off Appa's leg to a stand and tilts her head to the side, testing the pull on the muscles in her shoulder, and the way the moon throws highlights along the curve of her neck feels almost cruel.

_Cheap shot_, Zuko thinks, eyes turning briefly towards the sky. _I'm seeing why you and Sokka got along._

When he brings his gaze back to Katara, she's stopped her stretching and is looking down at him, hand still rubbing absentmindedly at her shoulder, and there's a kind of breathless energy about her that feels just as penetrating as the stillness from before.

'Thanks, Zuko.' The smile that sits on her face is much more hesitant than he's used to seeing on her. 'That really helped.'

He shrugs slightly, aiming for nonchalant and probably landing on clumsy.

'Any time.'

She stands there for a moment longer, jaw working as if she's trying to say something more, but then she sucks in an abrupt breath and moves to turn away.

'Well, I guess we should try and sleep. Big day tomorrow.'

He nods, more to himself than anything given that she's not watching him anymore.

'Yeah. Big day.'

This is exactly what he'd been afraid of — this stiltedness that seems to hang in the air now, born from some flash of misdirected emotion fuelled by moonlight and fear and a need to know that they aren't alone at the eleventh hour. Agni, they're in touching distance of the crest of a war that has lasted a hundred years, and this strange, dense feeling is not the way he wants things to be between them when they meet whatever fates are waiting for them tomorrow.

'Katara?'

She lifts her head from where she's laid down and looks back at him, uncertain.

'Yeah?'

'It was actually the pirates that tied you to the tree.'

Her face twists, nonplussed for a moment, then she breaks out into a laugh that sounds reassuringly familiar and her hand flicks in his direction, a light spray of water misting over him.

'Shut up.'

Stable ground. Thank Agni. This is where they make sense.

Zuko grins as he lies down, turning to face away from her, warmth creeping through the pit of his stomach, and as he closes his eyes he thinks he might just manage to sleep for a while.

It's only a couple of hours later that he's wakened by the sound of Toph's stone tent being pulled suddenly back into the ground, and fire erupts around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wondered as I was writing this if it might be too much. But then I thought, if there's one thing we know about Zuko it's that he has a particular knack for getting a tad dramatic over things. I really like the notion that he's a bit too wrapped up in the novelty of the friendship that he and Katara are building to fully allow himself to accept that there's something else there.
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts. I'm always keen for a bit of discourse about our favourite bunch of rebels!


	6. Threshold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. You know, there were times when I truly thought this chapter was barely going to break a thousand words - I'd said most of what I thought I wanted to say by around the 950 mark. But then I started thinking, and suddenly I realised there was a fair bit more to tell around this point in the story, and now this is the longest chapter so far, so... Cool.
> 
> Up to this point, I've been writing inserts that can be slipped into the canon without any changes to the actual source material itself. This time, I've started playing with some actual edits on the series (in this chapter it mostly takes the form of extending Katara and Zuko's chat before he goes in to face his uncle) and this is going to start happening more and more as we peel away from canon and the story takes a new course.
> 
> Say hello to Iroh!

The old Masters stand before them, greeting those in the gang who are familiar and introducing themselves to those who aren't.

Zuko thinks he vaguely recognises the one who looks to be the oldest of them from that mess of a show they watched on Ember Island (the hunched man with an untamed shock of white hair and an eye that seems to protrude quite enthusiastically from his face), and Katara quickly introduces him to Jeong Jeong (someone he'd heard tell of back in the Fire Nation) but there's only one man in the group with whom he's personally acquainted.

Next to him, Sokka greets his old teacher.

'Master Piandao.'

Upon returning the teen's salutation, Piandao shifts his attention towards Zuko.

'Prince Zuko. It's been a while.'

They both bow, a short laugh making its way out of Zuko's mouth as he straightens.

'Long enough that calling me 'prince' seems a bit outdated, Master Piandao.'

The older man's eyes are gleaming, a magnanimous smile playing on his face.

'I think you'll find there are those of us who still very much support the retention of your title.'

Something about the way he smiles, the way he speaks, reminds Zuko of his uncle — a nervous excitement blooms suddenly in his chest as he realises that he knows why the Masters are here and what they represent.

So when Piandao gives explanation to their presence at the city walls, the name comes easily to Zuko's lips:

'The Order of the White Lotus.'

Then, almost too swiftly, they're clambering through rubble and making their way along the path that will lead him to confront his wrongs. He's grateful for the chatter that accompanies them — it's a much-needed distraction from the nervousness that swirls under his ribs.

Bumi's brand of conversation is particularly effective, he finds, the wizened king croaking and cackling his way through the story of how he took his city back from Fire Nation rule.

'So what about you guys? Did you do anything interesting on the day of the eclipse?'

Zuko shares a look with Sokka, and they come to a wordless agreement that there's a bit too much to unpack on the subject of that particular day to be worth getting into right now.

'Nah.'

'No, not really.'

The old man shrugs, his whole stooped body lurching with the motion.

'Oh well, there's always the next one... in three hundred and eighty-two years!'

With that, the earthbender boosts himself up into the air atop a sizeable column of stone and is sent flying further down the path, hooting maniacally as he goes. The two young men walk in bemused silence for a moment as the echoes of his laughter fade away, and Zuko's voice seems to ring in its wake when he speaks.

'Wow, he's—'

'Insane? Yeah. Mad as a bag of squirrel toads.'

'Huh. So the Ember Island Players got that part right.'

'If anything I'd say they toned him down.'

'And he's the king of Omashu?'

'Yep. And an old friend of Aang's. Y'know, from before he ran away and became an Aangsicle.'

'What?'

'Uh-huh, the guy's like a thousand or something.'

'No kidding.'

'Hey, I'd forgotten that you trained with Piandao as well.'

'Yeah, and I started much earlier than you did.'

'That's obviously just because you needed more time to learn — no natural talent like me.'

'No natural talent, huh? Is that how I mastered fighting with duals?'

'I don't care how many duels you've had, the battlefield is where it really counts.'

'What? Ugh, no, you— Dual _swords_, Sokka.'

'Oh. Well, that's just because you need two for every one of mine to be able to match me.'

'Didn't seem all that matched at the Air Temple.'

'Oh yeah? Who's the one who ended up with a lump the size of a hawk egg on his head?'

'Because you used your boomerang. _Illegally_.'

'No such thing as fighting fair in the real world. You gotta use every advantage you've got.'

'...It kills me that you've actually made a point.'

'I have! And you know why?'

'...Because the battlefield is where it really cou—'

'The battlefield is where it really counts! Point to Sokka.'

'Sure. I guess you need to take everything you can get.'

'Oh, okay, when all this is over we're having a rematch.'

'So long as you're happy being beaten again.'

'Bring it on, pal.'

* * *

The camp is quiet under the stars when they arrive. It lies a short walk from Ba Sing Se's inner wall, and as they approach over the crest of the craggy hill, Katara is surprised and more than slightly heartened by its size — where she had expected to see a few solitary tents, there stands a commune not dissimilar in size to her own village back in the South Pole.

'Wow, The White Lotus has more members than I would've thought.'

Pakku chuckles.

'This only represents some of our number. There are other camps similar to this one currently stationed in areas which we thought may need extra support when the comet arrives — Ozai has soldiers positioned all over the Earth Kingdom in preparation for his plan.'

Toph chips in over Katara's shoulder.

'With that many people involved, how have you managed to stay secret? There's always someone who blabs.'

'The White Lotus has been around for centuries, since before the birth of Avatar Kuruk; we have our methods.'

'Well, that's mysterious as monkey nuts.' She nudges Katara. 'Your new grandpa's pretty cool.'

Katara's look is lost on her. As always.

The boulders that form the entrance to the camp slide down into the ground under Bumi's command, and as they walk between the rows of tents Katara's attention is caught by Zuko's voice behind her.

'Where— Where is he?'

'Your uncle's in there, Prince Zuko.'

He moves away from the rest of them, and she feels her heart thumping hard in her chest on his behalf as he walks towards the tent, each step becoming slower, heavier, until he draws to a stop just short of the entryway. His whole body seems to sag, head bowing down, and he drops to a sit on the coarse grass.

'That doesn't seem good,' Toph mutters, and Katara shushes her briefly before breaking from the group and making her way towards Zuko.

As she draws level and his face comes into view, her breath catches at how vulnerable he seems, how stricken, and suddenly she can picture exactly how he must have looked as he knelt before Ozai when he was thirteen.

With a stab of sorrow and anger, she understands on a whole new level how much this must be taking out of him; the last time he wronged a man who was supposed to guide and protect him, the last time he knelt and begged forgiveness, he was met with fire and shame and a mark that he would bear forever.

And she knows that this time is different — _everyone_ knows that this time is different — but she also knows that the memories must be sitting on his shoulders and hissing in his ears as he sits just feet away from the prospect of absolution.

Not knowing quite what else to say, she asks the question that she already knows the answer to.

'Are you okay?'

Of course he isn't.

'You're sorry for what you did, right?'

Of course he is.

'Then he'll forgive you, he will.'

Of course he will.

But demons aren't tamed that easily.

'Why should he?'

'I think you said it yourself. He loves you.'

'Loved. I said _loved_. Past tense.'

She takes a breath, searching for the right thing to say. _Clearly gentle encouragement is not the way to go._

'Okay, so what, you think you're so awful that you've managed to completely annihilate your uncle's capacity for forgiveness? I think you need to give both yourself _and him_ a little credit.'

He stalls, turns back away from her, grumbles something under his breath that she doesn't quite catch, and she feels the corners of her mouth tighten a little as she tries not to smile. Then—

'You don't understand what he did for me. He gave up everything — he stepped down from his place in court, he left his home, he went against direct orders from my dad, his _brother_... Pretty much the whole of the Fire Nation sees him as a laughing stock now, and he did all that just so he could come with me when I was banished to make sure I was okay. The only thing he cared about was helping me to find the right path. He believed in me, _always_. And when it came down to it all I did was prove that he shouldn't have.'

Katara's smile fades with his words, a frown passing over her face as she digests what he's said.

'Okay, but hold on — don't you think that you being here at all says something completely different?'

'What do you mean?'

His tone is bordering on defeated, and she huffs in frustration before knocking him lightly on the shoulder to jolt him into looking at her.

'I _mean—_ Look, you think he must hate you because you let him down and showed him that he was wrong to believe in you, right? But do you think that he might just see this as proof that he was actually right the whole time? Because why would you be here if you weren't the person that he always thought you were?'

He doesn't respond, but she can see the muscles in his jaw twitching as her words settle, and something in his face lightens just a fraction.

'Zuko?'

'Yeah.'

'Get up.'

And, after a slight narrowing of his eyes at her, he does just that, his hand brushing fleetingly against her shoulder in a sign of gratitude as he stands and makes his way slowly to the flap of Iroh's tent.

A final moment of pause, a breath, and he's in.

* * *

The two men sit in Iroh's tent for a long time after they are reunited, talking through the lives they lived whilst they were apart.

At one point, without any pause in the conversation, Zuko quietly puts together a pot of jasmine whilst his uncle pretends not to watch. After a long sip and a poignant silence, Iroh lays a hand on his nephew's shoulder, face open and glowing with emotion, and bestows upon him the finest compliment he has to give:

'I think that this may be the best cup of tea I have ever had.'

Both know that the brew is respectable at best. Both also know that that isn't what Iroh is talking about, and Zuko feels his eyes burn once more as he turns towards his uncle's praise as if it were the sun. The two of them sit wrapped in silence, substantial and warm, for a moment longer before Iroh speaks again.

'I understand that you are here with the Avatar and his companions — you have found friends in them. You trust them.'

'I do.'

'And in turn you have earned their trust.'

'I think so, uncle.'

'This makes me very happy to hear.' A dangerous twinkle suddenly comes into the old man's eyes. 'And the young lady, the waterbender — she speaks soundly, giving strength when it is needed. You listen to her.'

'I— What?'

'I must confess, nephew, I was not as deep in sleep as I might have pretended to be when you came into my tent. These old ears do catch fragments of conversation from the outside, particularly when those conversations occur right on my threshold.'

'But—'

'Something I have learned during my years is that it is altogether too common that we find people who tell us what we want to hear. It is a much rarer thing to find those who tell us what we _need_ to hear. It seems you have found such a person.'

'Are you... Are you trying to give me relationship advice hours before we go to battle?'

Iroh smiles, his eyes bright.

'I am giving you advice about the people you are close to, Zuko. Whether or not it is 'relationship advice' is very much up to you.'

'Is now really the time?'

'It is when our future is most unclear that we must be most mindful of our present.'

Zuko wonders if there has ever been a time when his uncle hasn't made something extremely complicated sound extremely simple. Then he wonders if there's ever been a time when he hasn't turned out to be right.

'Katara and I— We're very different.'

At this, Iroh bows his head in acknowledgement, taking a sip of his tea before responding.

'Our differences are the things that keep our connections stable and unwavering. Much as there must be balance between the yin and yang of the world, so must our bonds with each other be balanced — by the ways in which we are distinct, not the same. So long as you are able to learn from each other, your differences make you strong.' He lets out a hearty chuckle. 'And the world would be extraordinarily boring if everybody were alike.'

Zuko is silent.

His uncle's words are swimming in his head, winding their way through memories that glow with moonlight and smell like rain and sound like the hissing of steam, and in this particular moment it all feels like too much to unravel.

So he finds his mind locking onto something different, something that sits clear of the confusing tangle that is everything else.

'You were pretending to be asleep?'

'Indeed.'

'Why?'

'I must apologise for my dishonesty, nephew, but in spite of your friend's words, I thought you might need just a little while longer to collect your thoughts before we spoke. I did notice that you did not make any attempt to wake me.'

Zuko smiles, almost self-consciously, and lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.

'I thought that would be a pretty bad way to start an apology.'

Iroh smiles, more than almost proudly, and nods.

'You have grown patient, and learned to sit and wait until the moment is right instead of trying to turn the world to your wishes before it is ready. This is one of the great lessons in life, Zuko. And why your tea is much better now!'

'Thanks, Uncle. I learned from the best.'

* * *

The day dawns too quickly, bringing with it the moment when they must all go their separate ways. Hugs and bows and handshakes are passed around like sugar cookies, everyone painfully aware but refusing to acknowledge out loud that this may be the last time they are all in the same place again.

Katara moves through the members of the White Lotus, goodbyes coming in from all sides, and finds herself on the end of an unexpected bow from Iroh.

'_Master_ Katara, as I hear it.' He doesn't give her time to feel self-conscious being awarded such a show of respect from someone so esteemed. 'I believe my nephew is capable of looking after himself. This does not mean that I am not happy that he will have you with him today.'

'I— Thank you, sir.'

He smiles kindly at her, eyes glittering in the morning light, and bows once more before moving away. Katara turns herself, looking towards the members of their group who are readying themselves to ride to meet the Fire Nation's fleet of airships.

Toph feels her approach, and seems to know what's coming — she sidesteps, giving Katara a hearty punch on the shoulder that the waterbender is quite sure is going to leave a mark.

'Nuh-uh, Sugar Queen. Don't think I'm gonna hug you now just because we're heading in different directions. I'll be seeing you in a couple of days — that's nowhere near hug-worthy.'

Katara feels her forehead crease in a frown.

'Toph...' she breathes, and the weight of everything she's not saying hangs heavy between them.

The bravado slips off the younger girl's face, her shoulders slumping, pale eyes suddenly glassy. She stands stock-still for a moment before lunging forwards and grabbing Katara in a hug that feels more like a chokehold, squeezing tight for all of a few seconds before pulling quickly away.

'See you later, Katara.'

Before Katara can respond, Toph is gone, turned away towards the eel hound that will carry them away from Ba Sing Se and across into Fire Nation territory.

Suki moves in to take her place, and Katara grips the other girl hard, feeling her eyes start to sting with the burden of all the goodbyes.

'Give them hell.'

'Oh, I plan to.'

'And be careful.'

'I'll do my best. Make sure you do, too.'

'I will. And don't let him do anything stupid.'

Suki lets out a tense laugh into Katara's shoulder.

'Half your brother's brilliance comes from the stupid things he does.'

'True.'

Sokka's voice sounds from behind her, indignant to the hilt, as the two girls pull apart.

'Hey! Who are you calling stupid?'

Suki's laugh is looser this time, more genuine, and she pecks him quickly on the cheek before walking away, calling over her shoulder as she goes.

'I called you brilliant, too.'

'Well, that's accurate.'

The two siblings are left standing in front of each other, and Katara finds herself thinking that this is the moment where she quits, this is the line that she draws, this is the thing — after _everything_ — that's too hard.

But instead, she winds her arms around her brother and holds him long and tight. Dipping her head beneath his chin, she presses her ear against his chest and listens to the beat of his heart, strong and steady, memorising its rhythm so that she can hold it in her mind and will it to continue through the chaos of the day.

When they finally pull apart, his hands come up to cup around the back of her neck, and his smile is not quite as sure as it usually is.

'Stay safe, sis.'

'You too.' She has no words, so she says the only thing she _can_ say: 'Love you.'

'Love you. And hey...' The swagger comes back into his stance as he backs away from her, eyes brightening for a moment. 'Water Tribe. We got this.'

Despite everything, Katara finds herself smiling back at him.

''Course we do.'

Then, before she knows it, she's sitting in Appa's saddle, Zuko at the reins, and everyone is poised and ready to leave.

The feeling of something much bigger than herself, bigger than all of them, swells painfully in her chest as she casts a final, lasting look around the camp and the people before her.

She sends up a silent prayer to anyone, anyone at all, that Aang is safe and well and getting whatever guidance he needs to help him fulfil his long-awaited destiny.

Then the moment for prayers is over.

The comet is set on its path, and Aang is still missing, and in a moment all of them will be going their separate ways. By tomorrow's dawn, they will have reached the culmination of a journey that started a year ago, with two Water Tribe teenagers and a boy in an iceberg — a journey that, at times, seemed as though it would never end, and at others felt as though it might end all too hastily.

But now it is time.

Today they are fighting.

Today they are not alone.

'Today, destiny is our friend. I know it.'

Iroh speaks with such conviction that, for a moment at least, she believes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that this is starting to place a bit more focus on some things other than our fave pairing. Basically, this started as a totally self-indulgent Zutara fic and now I've accidentally created a monster which is running away with me and taking me to a bunch of other places. Plus Zutara. Don't worry, that's not going anywhere.
> 
> Iroh is actually so much fun. I really enjoyed putting myself into the headspace of that tanked out old sage, he's got so much wisdom to give. And despite finding it tough to write, I love the relationship between Zuko and Sokka as well - I just don't know how to write bromances without them sounding awkward or out-of-character, so you'll have to forgive that!
> 
> Review review review!


	7. Convergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one didn't take quite as long as the others. That may be because I've had half of it written for a good couple of weeks now. Guys, I've been so excited for this one. Zuko and Azula's fight scene is, in my opinion, the best part of the series, and I hope I've managed to do it justice here.

They've been travelling for almost fourteen hours now, stopping for breaks only when Appa begins to tire and needs time to recover his strength.

The sun has completed its journey through the sky, tracking overhead to set in vivid colour ahead of them, and now day has given way to night. The waxing moon sits at its station above them, and its glow paints the world in a gleaming monochrome as they make their way over one of the smaller islands of the Fire Nation.

They've been quiet for the most part, conversation scarce as they contemplate what will be waiting for them at their destination, but every so often the silence will reach breaking point and one of them will speak up over the wind that rushes past them.

It seems like it's Katara's turn.

'So... Fire Lord?'

She can't quite figure out the tone in Zuko's voice when he replies.

'Apparently.'

'How do you feel about that?'

He keeps his eyes fixed forward, not meeting her gaze, but his head shakes just a fraction as he chews over her question.

'I don't know.' He crosses his arms over the edge of Appa's saddle and rests his chin down on top of them, the wind pulling his hair back off his face. 'My uncle clearly thinks it's right, but I don't know if the rest of the Fire Nation will be so convinced — half of them think I never should've been allowed back after being banished, and I'll have lost the support of the other half when I defected.'

'I'm not sure that's true.' He turns to face her at that, clearly sceptical, and she shrugs. 'I mean, obviously I don't _know_, but before you arrived we travelled through the Fire Nation for some time and... Honestly, things weren't as black and white as I'd expected them to be. I think there are more people than you realise who aren't happy with the way things are under your father's rule.'

Zuko sighs.

'Maybe. I just—'

He doesn't finish, suddenly sitting bolt upright as something behind her catches his eye. She twists, her gaze turning to the sky above them, and her mouth goes dry at the sight of the bright bead of light that has appeared between the clouds.

The comet has arrived, and the strength that Katara had drawn from the moon's light is suddenly obscured as the world turns scarlet.

Beside her, Zuko draws in a deep, grating breath, and her eyes turn sharply towards him.

'You can feel it, can't you?'

He nods, eyes closed against the enflamed sky. The power seems to roll off him, radiating in waves from where he sits.

'What's it like?'

'How do you feel? When you bloodbend?'

She sucks in a gasp, holding the air trapped in her throat for a moment before answering.

'Unstoppable. Terrified.'

He tilts his head down, chin dipping towards his chest.

'That's how it feels.' His eyes open and he stares out across the crimson-stained land before them. 'And every other firebender down there is feeling the same thing.'

He shivers, and Katara feels the same impulse ripple through her own body. She needs something to ground her, something to feel stable, and she clasps a hand onto his shoulder in an effort to find it; his hand meets hers there, as if seeking the same thing.

'Zuko, I'm scared.'

He grips tighter. She feels his nod more than she sees it.

'I'm scared too.'

Her gaze lifts to land on the comet again, clearer now, terrible and roaring on its path through the sky. Its light sears her eyes, but she can't look away. She can feel herself shaking right down to her core, her breaths coming fast and shallow, and she's teetering on the edge of some awful precipice where below there is only fire and smoke and red and—

'Katara.'

Zuko's hand has moved from where their fingers were clasped together, his touch now gentle on the back of her head as he tilts her face down, away from the sky, to hold her eyes with his. His own face is set with fear and determination, and she sees him as if through a mist, dim and hazy.

He pulls her to him, his forehead pressing hard against hers and his hand fisting in her hair, almost painful. His skin is hot to touch, not like the air around them that's threatening to suffocate her, but in a way that feels like light and devotion and fervour and faith.

He's shaking too.

But she feels a little more real, a little more there, and it's enough.

She pulls away, just a fraction, just to let him know that she's back, and his hand unwinds from her hair, instead dropping down to weave his fingers with hers. His other arm comes up around her shoulders and pulls her tightly to his side, and she feels her eyes burn at the pocket of refuge he's created in the midst of a world that feels like it's about to end.

He grips her hand until his knuckles turn white.

Appa flies on, and they keep their eyes fixed on the horizon, two teenagers and their steed sailing to battle through a land soaked in red.

* * *

They land to a reception of Fire Sages gathered around Azula on the steps of the palace courtyard. A tremor of pride cuts through Katara's fear as she listens to Zuko assert his claim to the throne, but it's all too quickly overcome by unease at his acceptance of his sister's challenge.

The smile that twists Azula's lips in response is even worse.

'There's something off about her. I can't explain it, but she's slipping.'

She doesn't like it. She wants to say that it's when people are most unsteady that they're most unpredictable, most dangerous.

She _wants_ to say that she came here to fight next to him and that's what she going to do, Agni Kai be damned.

But he looks so solid and sure, so determined to uphold his honour and face down the demons that have spat and sneered in his head for years, that all she does is nod. Her shoulders are tense as she backs away, leaving the siblings to face each other across the courtyard.

Their clash is ferocious and devastating.

Waves of flame spin through the air, letting out crashes that sound like thunder where they meet and swell in vast sheets into the sky, the clouds above them lighting up in bursts of orange and blue.

The two young firebenders fight as if they are from another world, the comet catapulting them to stunning new heights, their power awesome and terrible as they reel through a nature-defying collision of brother against sister.

With every blast of fire, a rush of heat scorches Katara's face, until she can swear she catches the acrid scent of singed hair in the air around her. But she barely blinks, eyes fixed on the battle in front of her, ready to leap in if it looks as though Zuko is on the back foot. She holds her bottom lip between her teeth until she can taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth.

They rage on, a pause coming only momentarily after Zuko breaks through one of his sister's assaults, and for a second it looks as though he may have Azula in his sights as she goes spinning to the ground.

Katara runs forwards, ready for it to end, _praying_ for it to end.

Then the breath freezes in her chest and the noise around her is reduced to a sharp, keening buzz as, suddenly and dreadfully—

'I'll show you lightning!'

—the end comes.

* * *

Seconds become immeasurable.

Every thump of his heart in his chest feels endless.

He shouldn't be able to track the lightning's path through the air, but he can, and he watches in horror as it snaps not towards him the way it should have done but off to the right. And he knows, without even having to look, where it is going; because hasn't it always been the case, ever since they were children, that Azula knew exactly where to hit him to hurt him the most?

Time seems to have stopped and yet somehow there isn't enough of it. Somehow, it's about to run out.

He moves, and he shouts, and he's not sure what he's shouting or if it's just some wordless cry but all he can think is _no_, and then he's throwing himself sideways and he's reaching out to meet the crackling cleft of light and—

—he's flung back to the Western Air Temple, to another time when he leapt and flew and prayed, to another moment when he hung in the air with death coming towards him and no way of knowing if he'd done enough to save her—

_and he knows, as stupid a decision as it felt, that it hadn't really been a decision at all_

—his uncle is holding him tight, the old man's tears soaking into the back of Zuko's shirt—

'_I was never angry with you'_

—his mother is sitting next to him in the garden, hugging him to her, and her laugh sounds like home—

'_Zuko, that's what mums are like...'_

—he stands before his father, both of them rendered powerless in the shadow of the eclipse, but he's never felt more formidable—

_this is the moment for him to become the person he should've been all along_

—a warmth that feels like belonging trickles slowly through him as he moves awkwardly into the embrace of the rest of the gang—

'_being part of the group also means being part of group hugs'_

—Katara's eyes shine at him in the lamplight, face glowing with laughter as she struggles against his hand that grasps jokingly at her ankle—

_someone he sort of really needs in his life _

—white-hot pain flashes through him, up his arm and through his shoulder. He pushes it down with everything he has, down towards his stomach and away from his heart—

'_you must not let the lightning pass through your heart'_

—but then his whole body jolts as the ground rushes up to meet him, and his grip is lost.

He feels the heat searing through him as it halts in its flow and discharges the only way it can, out through his chest, the light forking up into the sky and through the clouds; the energy that's left behind feels razor-sharp as his body spasms against it, shuddering with the aftershocks of Azula's attack.

A sound makes its way to his ears — his name, shouted as if in desperation — but it seems as though it's coming from awfully far away, and his body fights against him as he turns over on the ground to try and find its source.

He catches a glimpse of Katara running, a branch of lightning crashing into the ground behind her, and he tries to reach out, tries to force the limbs that are shot with agony and no longer feel like his own to do something, _anything_ that might help.

But the world is turning hazy, reduced down to blurs of light and sounds that buzz in his ears and sharp pain and sharper fear.

Azula's voice, cracked and taunting.

Blasts of fire, blue, then flickering orange.

The crash of lightning, stone crumbling, ground splitting.

_Where is she?_

The rush of water.

_There._

Fire.

Water.

Ice.

Pain.

He can feel himself dying.

Azula again.

'There you are, filthy peasant.'

He'd called her that once, in a different life. _No, own it._ In the same life, before he'd found his way.

Water.

Water.

Silence.

Silence going on and on.

Fear rising, pain at breaking point.

He can't even gasp out a breath anymore.

Then another rush of water, coughing, the clinking of chains.

Azula struggling.

Hands on him, gentle, turning him over onto his back.

A coolness that feels like salvation, calming the fire in his chest and the sharpness that shoots through his body, bringing the breath back into his lungs.

And then her face comes into focus above him, and he thinks it must be the best possible welcome back to life from what was unquestionably the very brink of death. His throat feels rough and scratchy, but he manages to rasp out the words that count.

'Thank you, Katara.'

Her face screws up, halfway between laughing and crying as the tears that have been threatening start to roll down her cheeks.

'I think I'm the one who should be thanking you.'

Zuko reckons he could happily debate this point for a good while longer, but the sky is still sore and bloodshot, the comet and the moon seeming to hang side-by-side above them, and there are probably more important things to be doing. His body still aches as though he's... well, been struck by lightning, his muscles quivering precariously when he moves, and Katara braces her arm around his back and helps lift him, first to sit then to stand.

The courtyard is destroyed, flames still flickering across the ground, water dripping off cracked roof slates into puddles that spread across the tiling. Debris is strewn through the square, chunks of stone blasted from columns that no longer exist.

The smell of smoke lies thick in the air, tendrils of it curling half-heartedly up from the wreckage and twisting away into the sky, and Zuko coughs painfully as it claws at the back of his throat.

'Zuko?'

Katara's hand is on his chest again, holding him still — holding him up — and her eyes are worried.

'I'm fine,' he grates, swallowing hard to try and clear the aching itch that seems to sit above his sternum, before straightening up as best he can and turning his attention to the far end of the courtyard.

Azula kneels, arms bound in chains behind her, breath coming in furious, desperate gasps as water trickles from her hair and clothes down into the drain below her.

As they approach, she lets out a vicious cry that comes from somewhere deep and primal, a despondent shriek that echoes around the square and doesn't stop as blue flames erupt again and again from her mouth. Her body twists around the point where her hands are bound to the grating, contorting and writhing like something possessed, and then her screams strangle and turn into wretched wails as hysteria takes the girl in its grip.

They had been close, back when they were very young. Then, slowly, somewhere along the way, they had been polluted by their father, each of them acquiring a different flavour of corruption from the man who had convinced them so completely that his approval was something they needed.

Azula had, as in all things that she turned her hand to, excelled. Zuko had failed spectacularly.

He'd thought that he hated her. And perhaps, on some level, he still does.

But standing before his beaten, broken sister, he feels only a sense of permeating grief, mourning for the lives they could've had.

He turns to Katara, and her face is tautened in a grim mask of sorrow, but her hand is steady on his back and she looks at him as if she can't quite believe that he's alive, as if she's never going to look away, and that helps just a little.

Wordlessly, he turns them both back towards the palace.

They manage two steps before his strength leaves him and he crumples, Katara's voice calling to him from across the chasm, the world fading out once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the show, we see a very small snippet of Zuko and Katara's conversation on their way to the Fire Nation - I wanted to flesh that journey out a tad and explore something that feels to me to be a bit more realistic than the stalwart determination that we see from them as they approach the battle with Azula.
> 
> Also, man, I just feel like Azula is one of the most tragic characters to come out of what is supposedly a show for kids. For all that she's portrayed as a villain (and a brilliant one), let's call her what she is: an abused child. Her and Zuko both. She's fourteen (let's say max fifteen if we consider the fact that about a year passes across the duration of the series), and her father has groomed her into this near-psychopathic child soldier who seems more than happy to kill her own brother if she needs to. Like, that's fucking tragic.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts - those of us who write do it for our own pleasure and enjoyment, but being able to share it with other people and get genuine feedback (including constructive criticism) is such a great feeling. Please review!


	8. Remedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters just keep getting longer, jeez. I need to wind in a bit, I'd planned to be so consistent.

It's all she can do to keep him from cracking his head on the ground. Zuko's knees buckle beneath him and she just barely manages to lower him down, his name making its way past her lips despite the fact that she knows he can't hear her.

She shouldn't have let him stand in the first place, she thinks — it's absurdly obvious, now that the initial surge of energy has left him, that a single attempt at healing was never going to be enough to fix the damage that his sister's lightning did.

The Fire Sages scattered when the Agni Kai began, seeking cover among the pillars of the palace's atrium, watching from afar as the honour-bound battle raged. Now, Katara can see the shadows of them flitting back and forth from her place at the bottom of the steps, and she calls up to them, her voice cracking in a plea that rises over the echoes of Azula's sobs.

'Help me! Please. Help me move him.'

Her hands are already back on Zuko's chest, water glowing gently in the deep red of the night. His heart stutters under her fingers, still thrown by the blast of electricity that overturned its innate rhythm, and with every uncertain beat she feels the tempo in her own chest falter. The place where the lightning struck is still red and raw, livid bruises spreading out across his chest.

A few of the Sages slowly make their way out from the cover of the palace, stealing down the steps to the spot where she kneels beside him.

Between them, haltingly, they lift the broken body of their banished prince and bear him up the stairs, through the halls to a bedroom hung in soft scarlets. Katara never breaks contact, stepping in tandem with the older Fire Nation men as she continues to try to soothe the scorched tissues beneath her hands.

At her behest, a large basin of clean, cool water is brought to stand by the bed, before the Sages slip away into the depths of the palace once more.

Zuko sleeps fitfully. At first, Katara sits propped by his side on the bed, waiting for the next time he shudders up from the depths and his breaths catch in pain, calling on her bending each time to ease his suffering and send him back down.

But she can feel her own strength beginning to fade, the healing coming more painstakingly with every reprise, the adrenaline seeping from her body. Before long, she's slipping down into sleep next to him, one hand resting on his chest so that she can feel from the other side of consciousness when he begins to stir.

The night wears thin, and the light that comes in through the windows turns cool and bright as the passing of the comet comes with the day's dawn. With each healing, Zuko's sleep becomes more profound, more restful, and in the moments when he does wake he manages to speak, just a little.

'You need to sleep.'

Her reply barely makes it out through the warm drowsiness that's softening her mind.

'I'm fine. I've been sleeping.'

He gives a grunt that doesn't quite become words before drifting away again.

The next time, her fingers trace the paths left by the lightning on his skin. It's different to the scar on his face, dividing out from its focus in fern-like patterns that could almost be beautiful if they hadn't nearly ended him. He's pulled out of sleep by the shiver that runs through him at the light brushing of her fingers.

'That tickles.'

He hasn't found the strength to open his eyes yet, and her own gaze skates over his face, revelling in the calm that has settled there.

'Sorry.' A pause. 'It's not going to go away, you know. I can't heal it completely.'

'What's another scar between family members?'

The dark humour comes so unexpectedly that Katara is startled into a breath of a laugh. She thinks a smile twitches just barely at the corners of his mouth.

* * *

It must be some time later that she's nudged awake again, judging by the light that's now flooding the room, and she comes to with a start before realising that Zuko still sleeps soundly next to her. Turning, it takes her a second to make sense of what she sees, then her eyes widen and she jolts upright, her words a choked whisper into the silence.

'Spirits, _Sokka_.'

She throws her arms around her brave, beautiful brother, tears coming hot and fast to her eyes at him being real, here, alive. He pulls her tight into him, smoothing his hands over her hair the way their mother used to do when Katara was little. She doesn't want to let him go, but she pulls back to glance quickly around the room before looking up at him where he stands next to the bed.

'What— Where— Sokka, the others?'

'Fine, everyone's fine. They're all just down the hall. He did it, Katara — Aang did it.'

The tears only come faster at his words, and she buries her face back into his chest, and— La, there it is; that drumbeat, still sounding under his ribs, just as it had before they'd said goodbye outside Ba Sing Se.

Sokka drops a hard kiss onto the top of her head before tapping her on the shoulder, pushing her gently away from him and nodding towards Zuko.

'What about him?'

She turns, still not letting go, to watch the firebender's chest rise and fall, easy and regular in sleep.

'He's... better. Much better than he was. It looked bad for a while.'

Her eyes linger for a moment on Zuko, and then when she turns back to her brother she lets out a quiet, stuffy laugh at the wet patches that her tears have left on his tunic. It's as she's drawing the moisture out of the cloth that she notices the awkward way Sokka holds himself, the bandage that's wrapped around his leg.

'Sokka, you're hurt!'

'Broken, that's all. It's fine.'

'No, no, come on. Let me—'

'Katara, you're exhausted. It looks like you've been doing more than enough healing, just leave it.'

'Don't be ridiculous, come on.'

Flicking another quick glance at Zuko to make sure he's still settled, Katara unlocks herself from her brother's hold and makes her way towards the door, drawing water from the basin after her and jerking her head at Sokka for him to follow.

She hides the wave of dizziness that comes with being on her feet, walking as surely as she can along the hall before turning to a door on their left at Sokka's direction.

The assault that meets her is the best ambush that's ever come her way, a mess of limbs and wordless, elated cries as her friends embrace her from all sides. When they untangle themselves, her face is wet again, and her heart feels whole and strong in her chest.

Aang looks past her to the door, face suddenly tightening with worry.

'Where's Zuko?'

'He's asleep. Azula—' She chokes slightly on the name, swallowing hard before continuing. 'She hurt him, badly. But he's okay. He's—'

No more words will come, the emotion welling up in her and sweeping through her lungs so all she can do is breathe and drink in the sight of the people before her.

She takes a second to study each of them in turn, looking for dents or cracks that might need healing, but somehow, miraculously, everyone seems largely unscathed by the weight of what they've been through. They're pale and worn, all of them, faces hollowed out by trauma and exertion, but intact.

'Sokka, sit down. Let me look at that leg.'

As she heals him, the others gather around, seemingly afraid to lose contact with each other now that they're safe and together again.

Suki sits on the arm of Sokka's chair, hand on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing slowly back and forth along the bottom of his hairline. Toph stands on his other side, bare feet planted firmly on the stone tiles as she holds onto the vibrations of each person's heart beating, Aang's shoulder pressed against her knee from his spot sitting cross-legged on the floor. His other shoulder brushes Katara's as she kneels in front of her brother, working the water over his broken leg and willing the bones to knit back together.

They begin to talk, telling her everything that happened during their different parts of the battle.

Suki grips Sokka tight as he recounts how close he and Toph came to dying, the young earthbender only fingertips away from a swift journey down through the air and back to her home element.

'If it hadn't been for Suki, we would've been done. That would've been it.'

Sokka laments the loss of his self-forged sword, voice breaking in surprise when Toph casually talks about getting it back.

'What, you think I won't be able to sense a chunk of space rock out there, Snoozles? Once all this has calmed down we'll go get it back.' Her smile dims. 'Boomerang might be harder. I reckon there's a lot of scrap metal lying around in that stretch of land at the moment. I'm not sure if I'll be able to pick it out. I can try, though.'

Katara winds an arm around Aang's shoulders as the young monk speaks plainly about his fight with Ozai, pride and awe flooding through her as he describes what he did to bring an end to the war. She laughs despairingly along with everyone else when Sokka jumps in.

'It was _awesome. _The guy didn't know what to do with himself, he was just like—' He wavers in an exaggerated swoon, eyes crossing as he goes comically limp in his chair.

At some point, a large plate of fruit and buns is brought in by the palace staff, and Katara feels some strength coming back to her with the sweet freshness of the food, the woolly feeling in her head subsiding slowly.

Then it's her turn to speak. As she finishes telling them about what happened during the battle with Azula, the others sit in stunned silence, staring at her in the wake of her story.

'Wow,' Suki murmurs, glancing sideways at Sokka before her gaze swings back to Katara. 'He just... He just did that?'

Katara nods slowly, chin resting on her clasped hands.

'Yeah.'

There's something twisting, persistent, inside her, but it's too much to even think about right now so she shifts uncomfortably and focusses instead on the stories that she's heard, the threats that they've faced.

Despite everyone being largely unhurt, they've all come so wrenchingly close to death, ruin breathing so emphatically down their necks, that thinking about it makes Katara feel cold all the way through. She wraps her arms around herself, her mind wandering back along the hall to the member of their party whose life came closest to ransom.

Abruptly, she stands, her brow furrowing as she looks down at the surprised faces of her friends and brother.

'You know, I should go back, actually. He, uh... I think there's still a bit of a way to go.'

Sokka pulls himself up from his chair, still ginger on his newly-healed leg, and wraps her up in his embrace again.

'Tell him we're glad he's okay.' He pulls back. 'But, you know, in like a cool, manly way.'

She laughs, nods, casts another look around at the incredible people before her, and leaves.

* * *

The door clicks and creaks just slightly as she makes her way back into the bedroom where Zuko sleeps, and she winces as she slips through, twisting to close it as quietly as she can behind her. But her caution turns out to be unwarranted, for as she turns into the room she finds Zuko demonstrably not asleep, standing on steady legs a couple of feet from the bed.

Her mouth tries to pull into a smile, tries to form words, but she's held frozen, suspended in a suddenly vast second as if by some invisible power.

His jaw is clenched tight, hair dishevelled from hours of restless sleep, the scar on his chest standing stark against his pale skin, and he's looking at her like she's his deliverance, like she's the rain sweeping in after a drought.

There's something churning in her chest, trying to squeeze the breath right out of her lungs, the unbearable relief coiling taut through her and threatening to splinter in her gut.

The moment stretches out, the silence taking on its own keening tremor.

Finally, forcefully, Katara manages to pull in a breath, and in a flash that feels like a physical blow she finds that she's come unstuck.

She's not sure which one of them actually moves first.

She's not sure it really matters.

They come together with a jolt that shakes her down to her bones, every inch of her quaking with the force of it. The skin of his shoulders is hot under her hands, and he's kissing her with an almost bruising intensity, but then again she's kissing him in exactly the same way and it feels like tension and release all at once.

His hands are unwavering, just shy of rough as they move across her hips, waist, back, his fingers pressing points into her skin like stars in the sky, like words left unspoken. Her own arms reach up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, closer into her because even with his breath burning against her face it still feels like he's too far away.

He lets out a grunt of pain at the movement, and she starts, pulling back to look at him, her hand automatically moving down to the scar on his chest.

'Sorry.' The words come out dizzy and panicked. 'Sorry, I—'

But his hands draw up to tangle in her hair, keeping her close, his lips still brushing against hers even as he speaks.

'It's okay,' he breathes. 'It's okay, I'm okay.'

And she's a fraction of a second away from protesting, saying he should rest, but then his teeth are catching on her bottom lip, stinging over the tender spot that her own fear had left there earlier, and reason ceases to exist.

The smell of smoke and ash still clings to him, more of it filling her with every gasping breath that she manages to snatch in between the urgency of his lips on hers, a caustic reminder even with her eyes closed of what they've been through, what he did.

They stand, pressed together in the middle of his room, and she doesn't think about everything else outside, doesn't think about how in a few moments the rest of the world will come flooding back in. Right now there is him and his skin and his breath and his heart that beats hard and fast and sure under her hand.

She feels like she's being pieced back together and coming undone all at the same time.

It ends as quickly as it began, the two of them falling apart to stand, breathless, before each other as reality rushes into the gaps left between them.

Zuko stares at her for a moment, eyes brassy with shock and dark with something else entirely, before turning stiffly away back towards the bed.

Katara is left alone, still prickling with heat along the paths that his hands traced, so lost in trying to make sense of the last few minutes that she doesn't notice the way his shoulders hunch forwards until he sinks to a sit on the mattress. Her head snaps up to look at him as the sound of his pained breathing snags at her.

'Zuko...'

She moves forward, hand lifting of its own accord as if to go back to healing him again, but she's pulled short by the look on his face that tells her what, really, she already knows — neither of them can deal with her touching him right now.

Swallowing hard to try and dislodge the lump that's caught in her throat, she steps backwards again until she meets the wall, sliding slowly down to sit on the floor across from him and pulling her knees up to her chest. Her eyes fix on the floor, the knuckles of her hand pressed to her lips as though that might make them feel normal again, her mind loud in the silence that shrouds the room.

'That was...' She tails off, lost, because it was so many things, and there are too many words but at the same time somehow not nearly enough.

'Really bad timing,' he finishes, voice coming out rougher than usual, pinched slightly in pain.

Despite everything, she lets out a short, dry bark of laughter.

'You can say that again.'

Because they've just ended a war, and La only knows what's coming next. The only thing she can be sure of, _anyone_ can be sure of, is that everything's about to start changing, fast.

Spirits, this— this _thing_ that's been building between them since he joined the group was confusing before, the slow turning in her stomach a strange and bewildering addition to a friendship that was already new enough in itself. Now, they've just faced the fires of hell and somehow, against massive odds, come out of the other side.

She's so full of relief and ache and gratitude that she can barely even think straight. How is she — how are they — meant to figure out what they want at the moment, let alone whether it's wise or even _possible_?

And then, curse everything, that's before she's even gotten to the Aang of it all.

She holds back a groan, dropping her head to press the heels of her hands against her brow in the hopes that it might still the thoughts that are flitting around her head like sparrowkeets. Oh, her blood still feels hot and reckless in her veins.

'Katara, I... I feel—'

Her gaze pulls back up to him, and his golden eyes are glowing molten in the shadowy darkness of the room, even as he grasps for words. There's a clench in her chest that makes her feel short of breath all over again, every inch of bare skin on her face and neck and arms pulling hopelessly towards him in that way that's become more and more painfully familiar over the last few weeks.

He doesn't say anything further, seemingly unable to finish the thought. Then again, he doesn't really need to. She knows exactly how he feels — it isn't just hers, this tangle of confusion and longing, this strange, disorientating sting of clarity that somehow has only made everything else seem even more complicated.

She draws in a slow, deliberate breath, trying to find some coolness, some air, in the heat of the room. Her hand keeps drifting up to her mouth of its own accord, and she clenches it tightly into a fist, pulling it resolutely down to her lap when she finds her fingers at her lips once more.

'I think we both need to figure some stuff out.'

He nods slowly, his eyes holding hers, still probing and hesitant; his elbows are braced against his knees, fingers interlocked, wiry tension knotting his bare shoulders.

There's a second of stillness before she jolts into movement, standing all at once from her place against the wall and facing away from him towards the door.

'I should go.' Looking at him is suddenly impossible. When she speaks again, it's through an awkward half-turn in his direction, gaze skimming past the space around him but never landing. 'Um... I'll come back later for—'

She makes a self-conscious, graceless gesture towards him and the dish of water that still sits by his bed.

'No, I think— I think perhaps I should just get the palace healers to do the rest.'

'Right. Yeah, of course.'

Every move she makes feels jarring, everything she says coming out in sharp points and angles that fit awkwardly into the air between them. She doesn't know how to round it out, how to smooth the edges of their connection right now.

She needs to leave.

It only takes a couple of large steps across the room for her to get to the door, and she's just reaching out for the handle when Zuko's voice sounds from behind her.

'Katara.'

Spirits, just her _name_... Her hand finds the door in search of support, forehead coming forward to press against the cool wood as she holds a tight breath for a second, before releasing it in a rush and turning back towards him. She forces as much neutrality into her voice as she can manage, even as the quiet sincerity in his face sends emotion swirling through her like fresh-powdered snow.

'Yeah?'

'Whatever you want to do, I won't—' _Blame you._ _Try to stop you. Stand in your way. _

She softens, just a little.

'I know, Zuko. Me neither.'

She allows herself a final pang of yearning beneath her ribs, a final lingering look, her eyes travelling slowly over him. Then she turns and she leaves, closing the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! I know people have been saying that they like that things have been hesitant and natural so far, and I really hope y'all see this as an evolution of that rather than something out of character - in terms of the psychology of war and trauma, it felt like a very natural place for things to reach an emotional breaking point and overspill a bit before they flip back to that lovely awkwardness that just permeates everything they do. Let me know your thoughts!


	9. Burden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one took longer than a week. BUT that's because I thought I was writing a single chapter, and then it turned out I was actually writing two. So most of what is now the next chapter is done, and will probably be up in the next couple of days, give or take.
> 
> So here we go with the beginnings of all the post-war activity, and I'm gonna be real, our guys are struggling. No getting around that, I'm afraid - things are absolutely not going to be plain-sailing for them just because the war's over. Quite the opposite, really. Enjoy!

The day passes in a blur of colour and noise. Zuko feels as though he's walking around half-asleep, still dazed from his brush with the other side and the rambling unconsciousness that followed, but there seems to be no time left for him to rest and come back to himself.

Whilst the palace feels strangely quiet, held in a stunned stasis after the chaos of the war's final days, there's a hum of activity that seems to follow him everywhere he goes, a buzz of questions to be answered and arrangements to be made.

It's overwhelming, the relentlessness of it all. In a matter of hours he has gone from traitor to acting Fire Lord. The Sages are falling over themselves attempting to gauge what this means for the nation, and he's left trying to find his footing in a place where suddenly all the decisions are down to him.

'Lord Zuko, your father is being held in Capital City Prison — what would you have us do with him?'

'All Fire Nation military units remain at post, some still engaged in combat. What are your wishes regarding your soldiers?'

'At what point would you like us to inform the people of these, ah, new developments, my Lord?'

_My Lord_. Spirits.

He's still not convinced that he should be doing this. This whole 'ruling' thing, that is.

Multiple times throughout the day he finds himself back at Ba Sing Se, revisiting the moment when his uncle placed the leadership of the Fire Nation in his hands. There was so much ease, so much simplicity about it, so much confidence that he was the best person for the job.

But Zuko is not naïve.

It hasn't escaped him, even shy of twelve hours in, that there are some who don't seem particularly happy about his new position. Granted, so far it looks like it's a minority, but probably a fairly large minority and that's just in the palace — what about the rest of the Fire Nation, the rest of the world?

To some, he'll be the usurper, the traitor who overthrew the rightful Fire Lord just as he was on the brink of leading the nation to glory. To others, he'll be the upstart young prince who brought down his father just to take over the throne and abuse its power himself, one more player in a game that always seems to end with the people losing.

There will be those, he keeps telling himself, who are happy; those who believe that he will be able to bring the Fire Nation and the world into an era of peace and balance.

But, he keeps countering, what do they know? Where could this belief in him possibly have come from?

Being a good rebel, a good _person_, winning a war— None of that is the same as being ready to rule, and less than a day in it feels pretty obvious to him that he has absolutely no clue what he's doing.

How is he meant to go about reversing damage that's a hundred years in the making?

When it comes down to it, he's an untrained teenager who spent the better part of the last few years not based in what is now his nation, but stumbling around the world chasing what everyone thought was a ghost. He hasn't been prepared for this.

His uncle's arrival late in the evening releases something in him — the grip on his gut that has been twisting around on itself since he rose this morning is suddenly relinquished, and the relief is so strong it's almost painful.

Iroh's eyes are wet, his beam brilliant as he catches Zuko in a tight hold.

'My nephew. Look at what you and your friends have done.'

'Not just us — I hear that Ba Sing Se has been liberated.'

The older man chuckles quietly as he releases Zuko, a hand remaining on his shoulder as the two of them make their way into the palace from the front steps. Clear-up on the courtyard was started early in the day, and already the scars of Zuko's battle with Azula are starting to disappear.

'Indeed, we were successful in taking it back on behalf of the Earth Kingdom. The other members of the White Lotus have remained there in order to help with the efforts to restore the city after the occupation, but I thought I should make an appearance for the coronation of the new Fire Lord.'

Zuko feels his head dip, his jaw tighten. A pang of pain ripples through his chest with the sharp breath that he pulls in, heart thumping wildly for a few seconds the way it has done at multiple points throughout the day before calming — he supposes that stress doesn't mix very well with near-fatal injuries.

'Right now I don't feel very worthy of that title. I'm already so far out of my depth, and it's only been a day.'

'Only a ruler who didn't care about making the right choices would find it easy to lead during a time of change. The fact that you feel the burden of the work is a testament to your good intentions, not an indication of failure.'

'You sound very sure about that.'

'I am. I know that you are where you are meant to be, Zuko.' Iroh pauses briefly, face warm with understanding and affection as he looks sideways at his nephew. 'But this is a time of great upheaval, and you must know that you are not expected to work alone — no good leader sits in isolation.'

'Uncle, I— You're meant to be playing Pai Sho and planning an opening for your teashop.'

'It will be a little while before the city is ready for business to begin again. And the simple pleasures that life has to offer can be found no matter where you are — I do not need to be in Ba Sing Se to be able to enjoy tea and board games.' His smile grows, eyes crinkling. 'I will be here for as long as you have need of me, although I suspect you will be ready sooner than you think.'

The quiet, assured words of support are enough to make Zuko feel drained all over again, the strain of the last day finally making itself known in full force on his limbs now that he has permission to show some form of weakness.

Because throughout it all, much worse than the never-ending barrage of questions and the doubt that has inevitably followed, is how crushingly inaccessible he's been feeling. The others have been there, trying to help, trying to offer advice, but they're all in the same position as him, thrown into an onslaught of questions and responsibilities that none of them are ready for.

And it hasn't helped that the person he wants to talk to the most has been avoiding him.

Not that he doesn't understand why. He knows — hell, he _agrees_ — that the situation is more than complicated between them right now, and there's way too much going on for either of them to be able to give it the attention that it deserves — oh man, he wants to give her the attention she deserves — but... Crap. It still sucks.

It's not as if she hasn't been _there. _She's been standing with Aang and Toph as plans to clear the wreckage strewn across the Earth Kingdom are put into place, grabbing Sokka to make sure that their father has been contacted, passing Zuko in the hallways. But he can see the lengths she's been taking to make sure they don't end up too close, her gaze turning away from him a little too deliberately at each pass, her interest in each conversation a little too concentrated.

More than once, he's focussed in on the fatigue that scores her face, the way her eyes seem cloudy and leaden. More than once, the breath in his lungs has solidified, ready to take form, to make sure she's okay and ask her what she needs. But no sound has come out.

Katara is everywhere he looks, but the distance between them is like something physical, sitting heavy and cold around him.

After his uncle leaves him to sleep, as the night creeps into the dark of the next morning and he's finally alone with his own thoughts, he almost laughs at how absurd they seem. This time yesterday he was half-dead, being pulled back from the brink; his father is in prison, his little sister is in pieces, and the weight of the nation is bearing down on his shoulders.

And all he can think about when given the chance is the sound of her breathing next to him as she slept, the way she looked at him when she came back into the room, the feel of her lips on his.

Iroh's words come unbidden into his head from what feels like a lifetime ago — _it is when our future is most unclear that we must be most mindful of our present._

Well, the future is pretty damn unclear right now.

But for a brief, breath-taking — quite literally, breath-taking — moment, she had been his present, completely. In that moment the future hadn't felt quite so daunting.

He rubs his hands hard over his face.

Agni, his chest aches.

* * *

Sleep won't come. She's exhausted, utterly wrecked by tiredness, but day has passed and night has passed and now they're back into day again, and sleep won't come. She just lies, mind writhing beneath a curtain of blurriness, staring at the ceiling of the room that the palace staff made up for her.

The silence is grating, only making her thoughts seem more intrusive. Sitting up abruptly, Katara drops her head into her hands, her fingers pressing hard against her brow as if she might be able to switch herself off from the outside.

She can feel her breath coming faster, frustration and doubt roiling through her stomach until finally something snaps — she lets out a muted shout, her arm coming up in a lurching, forceful swing, and the water from the jug next to her bed scythes along the opposite wall to spray unceremoniously onto the tiling as she releases it from her hold. It leaves a gash the length of her arm in its wake, and she stares across the room at it, equal parts of dismay and a kind of brutal gratification streaking through her momentarily before the emotion drains out of her again.

She slumps back, hands coming up to hold her head again, and takes in a few harsh, deliberate breaths. It doesn't help her feel better.

Her head jerks up as the door opens, and she makes out a green figure through the rush of dizziness that washes over her at the movement.

'Toph.' Her voice comes out sounding like a stilted parody of normal speech. 'Hi. What's up?'

As her vision clears, the young earthbender comes into sharper focus, standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed and face interrogative.

'I think I should be asking you that. I could hear you from five rooms over.'

'Nothing. Nothing's up.'

'Right, sure, that really sounded like nothing.'

Katara bristles.

'Listen, everything's fine, okay? Just leave m—'

'You know that I can tell when you're lying, right? I don't even need to use earthbending right now, you're doing such a bad job of it.'

Tilting her head away from Toph, Katara lets out a breath of annoyance at the younger girl's persistence. They hold at an impasse for all of a few seconds before she breaks with a coarse sigh.

'I can't sleep. It's not a big deal, I just— It's not happening, that's all.' Toph says nothing, one eyebrow rising slowly to show that she doesn't consider that a proper answer. It rasps on Katara even more to know that the other girl can't see the way she rolls her eyes before she continues. 'I kind of managed a bit after the battle but... I don't know, I was healing Zuko at the time so I wasn't really fully under.'

'So that's like, what, two days without any proper sleep?'

'Yeah, well, so what? No one's been getting enough rest, we're all tired, it's not—'

'No, everyone else has been finding moments to get some extra shut-eye here and there. Everyone else pretty much passed out last night when they got the chance and now they're all sounding— Well, not _great_, but definitely better than they were. You still sound like crap. Offence intended.'

Katara glares fruitlessly at her.

'Wow, Toph, you always know just what to say.'

A grin spreads across the earthbender's face.

'Glad to be of service.' When Katara doesn't reply, the teasing note disappears from Toph's voice. The characteristic bluntness of her words doesn't. 'Look, none of us are great at saying when we need help, right? But if it were anyone else then you'd be all over it trying to play mother. And I'm not saying that as a bad thing. Just, you know, a true thing.'

'Great.'

The fight has left her. The part of her that's still reasonable understands what Toph is saying, but it's overshadowed by a much larger, harder part that just wants to be left alone and is done talking.

Toph stands for a moment more, and if Katara didn't know better she'd think that the girl was studying her, what with the accuracy of her pale-eyed stare.

'Okay, Sugar Queen. I know who you need right now.'

Katara flinches, watching as the other girl marches purposefully out of the room. She almost considers going after her, but even the small movement of sitting up straight makes her feel woozy again, so she has to settle for squeezing her eyes shut against the swimming room and calling pointlessly after her friend.

'Toph? What are you doing? Who are you—'

But she's already gone.

A few minutes pass, and Katara doesn't move. She just sits and breathes, slow and deliberate, not least because she kind of thinks she might throw up if she does anything else.

Just as her head starts to clear, she hears footsteps coming back down the hallway, Toph's voice fading back into hearing.

'—but you know what she's like.'

She opens her eyes slowly against the threat of the dizziness returning, and finds that the world has stabilised itself for now. The footsteps come closer, and she keeps her gaze fixed on the door, something akin to dread rising in her as she waits to see who Toph has in tow.

It's easy to tell herself that it's relief she feels when her brother appears in the entryway — easy because, for the most part, it's true. And the small part of her that's disappointed doesn't really get a say.

'Hey, Sokka.'

She hates how much she fails at sounding casual.

'Hey.'

And she hates how much concern he manages to put into one word.

Sokka comes forwards to sit on the edge of the bed by her feet, and Toph rocks back and forth a couple of times on her bare heels before nodding decisively.

'Well, if my work here is done then I'm off — I've gotta see an old man about some tea. Catch you kids later.'

Katara is left with Sokka, sitting in silence as he scrutinises her.

Her eyes flit up to his face, his brow that's caught in a frown, before darting away again and fixing on the bedspread in front of her. She feels like a child who's about to be reprimanded, guilt and annoyance prickling at the back of her neck and melding with exhaustion to squash her temper short.

He still isn't saying anything. He still has that worried big brother face on that sets her teeth on edge.

'What?'

The word comes out short and sharp, and he looks at her like _come on_. She falls back onto the pillows, gaze turning churlishly back to the ceiling.

'Look, I'm sure Toph already filled you in, so—'

'She's worried about you. So am I.'

'Well, you don't need to worry, okay? I'm fine. If everyone would just stop treating me like I'm five years old—'

She breaks off at Sokka's snort, tilting her head to glare at him.

'Sorry,' he chuckles. 'I mean, it's just coming from you that's pretty—'

'What? Hypocritical? Okay, fine, I'm a hypocrite. Now will you leave me alone?'

He lets out an exasperated huff, looking briefly to the ceiling as if asking for strength from some sky-bound deity before turning back to her.

'Katara. You're not sleeping. Why?'

'If I knew that then it wouldn't be a problem, would it?'

'Gods, you've always had the worst temper when you're tired. You used to do this when you were little, you know — something would stress you out and then it'd be almost impossible for Mum and Dad to get you to go to sleep until they figured out what it was. So what is it this time?'

'Couldn't have anything to do with the horribly traumatising war that we just brought to an end, could it?'

The thing is, she knows she's being unfair. She knows she's snapping at him, and that he doesn't deserve it, but the fatigue is like a living thing inside her, throwing her voice around like it's nothing.

She hears Sokka take a breath, and as she glances at him out of the corner of her eye she can see him change tack.

'Okay, well, you slept with Zuko— Gah!' He blanches, face contorting in a way that would've been funny if it weren't for the subject matter. 'No, wait, _man_, you slept when you were _healing_ Zuko. Jeez. But like... I don't know, should I go get him and—'

'_No_. No, that won't help.'

'Katara...'

He must see the way her whole body clenches tight against him saying anything more about the firebender, because he stalls and falls silent, watching her as she folds in on herself. His voice is gentler when he speaks again, probing softly at her to try and make sense of things.

'Katara, what's going on?'

With a quiet groan of surrender, she presses her hands up to her face, eyes squeezed shut under them – partly to escape his gaze and partly because she doesn't want to see the look on his face when she tells him the things that have been gnawing at her.

'It's nothing to do with Zuko.'

A half-lie. It's taken her a while to realise that he's only part of it, that actually there's something bigger going on which, it turns out, feels so much more destabilising than a poorly-timed kiss.

'It's so stupid. It— It sounds awful.'

'Well, why don't you try me and we'll see.'

It takes her a couple of false-starts before she gets the words out.

'I know I should be happy about the war ending. And I am, of _course_ I am, of course I'm glad that it's over, but... Things were never easy before, but at least they were _simple_, you know, in a lot of ways. We didn't always know how we were going to get there but we knew where we were trying to go, and now I don't think I know where I'm going anymore.'

She lets out a bitter breath of a laugh.

'It's so ridiculous. Imagine feeling worse once the war's over than you did during.'

Sokka doesn't say anything, instead shifting up the bed and wrapping his arms around her as she keeps talking, her voice disappearing into his shoulder.

'Everything changed. The moment we found Aang, everything changed — _we_ changed. And now everything's changing _again_ and I know I'm not the same as I was but I don't know what that means or how it fits into everything else or—'

Tears start to burn hot in her eyes, but none fall.

'There is so much that needs doing, and I don't even know where to start. I feel paralysed. I don't know what I want, I don't know what my part is.' Her voice thins out. 'Sokka, I am so tired.'

There's silence. Sokka rests his chin on her head and takes a deep breath. Then he speaks.

'Right. First off, it's not stupid. I could point you towards multiple examples of things you've said in the past that _were_ stupid, but not that.'

Despite herself, Katara nudges him in the ribs and lets out a snotty-sounding laugh, and she feels Sokka cringe even as he keeps her in his grip.

'Eww, okay, none of that, thanks. Secondly, I think it's safe to say that we have more than done our part in this war. We've already risked our lives and fought the bad guys and come out on top — it is not our job to repair the damages and make everything make sense now. I mean, you know, except for Zuko. It _is_ his job. Like, literally. Man, that's rough.'

It touches a raw nerve that she's been doing her best to ignore, the fact that Zuko must be having the hardest time of all of them, because—

Because it aches every time she thinks about the fact that she can't be there for him, can't be around him at the moment.

Because she's learning that she needs to look after herself before she can look after anyone else, and it hurts like hell.

'Did you have a point there, Sokka?'

'My point is that you don't owe anything to anyone. You don't need to figure out what your part is in all this mess, you just need to figure out what you want to do, and you can take as long as you need to do that. So you go and do whatever it is that you need to do to find out where you fit now that the war's over, right? And hey—' He chucks her on the shoulder. '—no matter what, there's always home.'

She rests in his embrace a couple of seconds longer, then pulls back, sniffing hard and looking questioningly at her brother.

'When did you get all smart?'

His expression morphs into indignation.

'Hey! I've always been smart.'

'It's weird.'

'It is not weird!'

She laughs for real, leaning back in to hug him again.

'Thanks, Sokka.'

'Any time, sis. You're much nicer once you've chilled out a bit. You think you'll be able to sleep now?'

As if in response, Katara's suddenly gripped by a jaw-cracking yawn. Sokka's shoulder shakes under her chin in a laugh, and she finds herself smiling as she draws away again and curls up onto her side.

'Yeah. Yeah, I think I might manage.'

He stays sitting perched on the edge of the bed next to her, one hand resting on her head as he hums a tune that feels strangely familiar.

Finally, after two near-sleepless days, with the soft, somewhat off-key strains of an old Water Tribe lullaby in her ears, Katara finds herself drifting.

And when she wakes again after a full day and night of sleep, she knows what she needs to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much more family-orientated, this one. I love brother-sister relationships in general, and I was really keen to do a bit of role-reversal with Katara being the more immature one and Sokka spouting out a bit of brotherly advice. He just really came into his own with the war, as a soldier and a leader, whereas I feel like Katara is just the right personality type to fall victim to the sense of purposelessness and difficulty acclimatising that a lot of soldiers feel after coming back from war.
> 
> And poor Zuko, I just don't even know with that boy. He tries so hard.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	10. Untethering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to say for this one. I think it speaks for itself, I just- Okay.

This has been coming for a while, this conversation — since they were on Ember Island, at least. Probably since long before then, if she's being honest with herself, but then denial is a funny thing.

She's been holding off, pretending it would just work itself out and that she'd never need to address it directly. Aang's disappearance, followed swiftly by the crest of the war, offered a strange kind of reprieve for a time, but now the dust is settling and there aren't really any excuses left.

Katara needs to make it plain that, yes, she cares about him. Dearly. But not in the way that he wants.

Because the thing is, now she _knows_. Now she knows what that need feels like, and now that she does it's irrefutably clear that she doesn't feel that way about him. Affection, of course. A kind of fascination, even allure, at certain points.

But not this.

Not this pulsing, stomach-turning gravity that draws down under her ribs and tightens at the back of her tongue. Not this thing that shivers across her skin and loosens the furrow of her brow and makes her feel utterly realised, utterly _seen_.

Aang loves her. He loves the her that he believes she is. But he will fight tooth and nail to keep that version of her alive, to keep on thinking that she doesn't fail, doesn't wrong, doesn't _need_.

He's never really been able to accept that she has parts of her that are ugly, too, that even her best moments are real and imperfect and don't come with the unattainable sheen he has created around her.

She can't. She can't be his _reason why_. She can't be his rendering of her — not before, and certainly not now that her own picture of who she is has become so blurred.

She is not his Katara. And it won't do either of them any favours to pretend that she is.

It runs like a mantra through her head as she paces through the halls of the palace, making her way out through the gardens and around behind the stables to the spot that was set up for Appa.

Aang's laugh greets her before the sight of him does, and when she turns the final corner she finds him sat on the floor by one of Appa's front feet, deep in animated conversation with the air bison – Appa's great head rests on the ground, his eyes fixed on Aang, and every few seconds he lets out a grunting huff as if in response to the boy's words.

Katara watches them for a minute, feeling her eyes soften at the bond between the airbender and his old friend, then Aang turns and jumps to his feet at the sight of her.

'Katara!'

She almost falters at the beam that's lighting up his face. It's been a rough few days for all of them, and genuine laughter has been hard to come by; the idea of being the person who takes that smile off his face is almost abhorrent. She meant what she said to Zuko back when they were still on the island, staring up at the stars with the smell of the sea in the air — she doesn't want to hurt him.

But — she repeats it to herself again — _it won't do either of them any favours to pretend._

'Appa and Momo and I were going to go for a fly before it's time to get ready for the coronation. You wanna come?'

'Actually, Aang, I... I think we should talk.'

His smile fades, and a strange expression that isn't quite sadness flickers across his face.

'Right.'

They walk to the steps leading up to the stables, sinking to a sit. She's struggling to meet his eye, instead focussing her gaze on the sakura that flutter past them on the breeze as she tries to find a place to start.

Aang gets there first.

'So... This is about—'

'Yeah. Um... Listen, Aang—'

'You don't love me, do you? Not in that way.'

Her head whips round to stare at him at the unexpected acknowledgement. That look is still on his face, and now she recognises it for what it is: resignation. Or, more than that, acceptance.

'I— No. I'm sorry.'

He turns away from her, leaning back against the step behind him. His face tilts up towards the sky, the breeze drifting around him, and he speaks with his eyes closed against the sun.

'You know, when Guru Pathik told me I needed to let go of you to be able to reach the Avatar state, I was so confused. I couldn't understand how me loving you could be a bad thing. It just didn't make sense — I'd always thought that love was something that made people better rather than getting in the way.'

The world seems to be responding to his story, the gentle wind blowing that bit harder, pebbles dancing across the ground as the Avatar speaks.

'Then when I was away with the lion turtle, I tried seeking advice about how to face the Fire Lord from my past selves. I saw that one of them had lost the woman he loved to Koh, and I guess that confused me even more, because obviously he could be with her and still be the Avatar, so why couldn't I do the same thing?'

He opens his eyes, looking out to the garden but clearly elsewhere in his mind.

'It didn't make sense until my last chakra was hit during the battle. I don't know what happened, exactly, but I think that for a second everything connected, and I realised that I'd been looking at it wrong — love in itself isn't an earthly attachment, but it becomes one when it's misguided or self-centred. 'Cause then it's not really love anymore, right?'

She's been watching him as he speaks, and now he turns to look at her, his face open and sincere.

'I'm sorry, Katara. I love you, and I thought that was what mattered, but...' Something that's almost halfway to a smile skims across his face. '...but you don't love me like that. I couldn't see it. I was selfish. That's what was blocking my chakra, that's what I needed to let go of.'

For a moment, Katara is left searching for how to respond. Then something in what he's said snags at her.

'Needed? Past tense?'

He shrugs slightly, and the smile becomes fully-formed, tentative as it is.

'I made it into the Avatar state, right?'

It's an explanation in itself, and she feels her shoulders loosen as the stress that she's been carrying around for weeks, months even, is finally released.

'Yeah. You did good.'

He beams at her, and together they stand and make their way back to the spot where Appa is dozing in the mid-morning sun.

'Thank you for telling me all that, Aang.'

'I think it's been a long time coming. I really should've realised it all earlier, especially with Zuko and everything.'

It's said so casually, but it feels like walking into a brick wall.

She stops dead, shock tearing through her so sharply that it almost makes her feel sick.

'Excuse me?'

Aang has walked on, not realising that she's no longer next to him, and now he turns back, a look of bewildered concern on his face.

'You—' He frowns. 'You're in love with Zuko.'

'_What_? I—'

If she could laugh it off, if she could _breathe_ properly, she would. Aang is staring at her, that crease still sitting on his brow that borders on incredulous, as if what he's saying is a given.

She doesn't understand how he can come out with it so easily, how he can be so sure about this when she seems to have forgotten what being sure even feels like.

And fleetingly, a streak of something almost like anger steals through her. Because here he is again, making everything seem black and white, telling her who she is and how she feels before she's really had the chance to try and figure it out herself.

But the feeling fades just as quickly as it came.

She can't condemn him for ignoring her imperfections and then in the same breath refuse to accept him for his. He means well, she knows, and he's trying to understand.

When it comes down to it, he's still Aang, no matter how much he's grown and learned in a year, in a day, in that single moment when his chi unblocked and enlightenment flooded in. He still lives in a world where there's being friends and there's being in love, and there's no middle ground. No questions, no uncertainty, no grey.

He's been through more — achieved more — in the last year than anyone could expect to in a lifetime. But he's young. _So_ young. There's plenty of time for life to show him how messy things can be. She doesn't have the will or the energy to play that part today, and perhaps there's a piece of her that wants him to keep that innocence, that sense of clarity, for just a while longer.

So, for now, all she says is—

'It's not that simple, Aang.'

He opens his mouth as if to push back, and she waits for him to ask her what she means, to tell her that it _is_ that simple if she just sees it the way he does. Then he stops, and she sees him processing, working through her words. She sees him accept them, despite not fully understanding.

And a bit more of that distance that's been between them disappears.

Aang's eyes meet hers.

'Are you okay?'

She smiles, laughs a little, and answers as honestly as she can.

'Not completely. But almost. Are you?'

'I think so.' He pauses. 'Are _we_ okay?'

Honesty comes much more easily to that one, and this time her smile reaches her eyes.

'Of course we are.'

Behind them, Appa huffs into waking, and she finds herself laughing fondly as he lumbers over to Aang and swipes a sloppy lick up the back of the airbender's head.

'Okay, buddy, I get it. Time to fly.' He lifts himself off the ground, sailing up and onto the bison's back. From his perch, he looks back down at Katara. 'Wanna come? There's still time before the ceremony.'

Her smile is answer enough.

* * *

He's never seen anyone be quite so furious and yet so strangely understanding at the same time before. Then again, if anyone were ever going to manage that it would be Mai.

'Mai! You're okay.'

Zuko's smile of relief fades quickly as she stands, stone-like, in the doorway, arms crossed like armour over her body. Her words are laced with that quiet, dangerous rage that has always seemed worse than something brash and shouted.

'Okay? What, you mean after you locked me in a cell in the most secure prison in the world and then ran whilst Ty Lee and I covered you from Azula?'

His shoulders fall, the guilt rising from that spot where it stays nestled like a stitch in his side.

'I'm sorry. I was just doing what I thought I had to. It wasn't about you.'

A flash of sadness flickers across her face, just for a second.

'I know that. The decisions you made had nothing to do with me.' Her lips twist into a bitter smile. 'That was just the problem, wasn't it?'

There's no response he can give to that.

Mai's face is still pinched, jaw tight with anger as she runs her gaze slowly over him, head nodding slowly as if she's confirming something that she all but knew already.

'You look different, you know. I haven't seen you this calm in a long time.'

'I can't say I'm feeling it at this particular moment.'

She rolls her eyes, and almost manages to make her next words sound like an insult. Almost.

'Not like that. Deeper calm. Like, you finally know what path you're on calm.'

'Oh.' There's a long, drawn-out pause. 'I guess that's true.'

She studies him humourlessly for a second longer, then her eyes lift to the ceiling again and she lets out a breath that just hints at exasperation, pushing off the wall and moving towards him. Coming right up close, she lifts the empty sleeve of the tunic that still hangs off his shoulder and holds it out ready for him. He watches her questioningly, not just a little wary, and a cold spike of impatience emerges from her grudging show of support.

'Well, at the rate you seem to be going you won't be ready until late evening. Can't keep the people waiting for their new Fire Lord.'

Her words are caustic, hands tying the belt at his waist just a bit too tightly to be comfortable, and when she steps back to meet his gaze her eyes haven't stopped burning, the fury and hurt glaring out at him.

'I'm still mad at you.'

'I know. I wouldn't expect anything else.'

And he wouldn't. There were points during his time in the Fire Nation when it seemed as though Mai was the only person who'd been there for him. Zuko has never held any delusions that their relationship was perfect, but it had been real, and he was the one who had ended things in just about the most dishonourable way he could've done. His reasons don't matter.

He's changed, irreversibly changed, but he knows that if that were all it was then she'd be okay — she wouldn't be holding it against him like this, no matter what it meant for them. But he humiliated her, failed to trust her, and he knows that they aren't things she'll excuse easily.

'Mai. I really am sorry.'

'Yeah, Zuko. I know you are.' Fact, not forgiveness. She steps back from him. 'Well, I guess I'm done here.'

'You know you're always welcome. If you want.'

The sound of her irreverent laugh amplifies across the stone of the room as she walks away.

'Please.'

* * *

She'd expected Zuko's coronation to be... challenging. And it is.

But she's careful to acknowledge to herself that there's no way she would ever have missed it, this momentous occasion that they've all worked so hard to reach.

The crowd breaks into cheers as he appears from the palace, and Katara thinks she must be the only one who feels as though the air has suddenly become too thin. Zuko steps into the sun, full Fire Lord regalia in place, and he shines — every bit the leader that he was born to be, every bit the banished prince, the Earth Kingdom refugee, the traitor and teacher and fighter and friend that got him to where he is now.

Something bittersweet passes along the roof of Katara's mouth, running down past the lump in her throat to pool in her stomach.

Then Aang appears behind Zuko on the steps, and despite everything, she feels pride go rippling through her, coaxing her lips into a smile that feels real and warm at the sight of them: two men, once enemies, now standing together as heroes and friends, both bearing scars seared by lightning and healed by her own hands.

Zuko's speech is one that bursts with faith and vitality, reverberating with hope for the future, and when the crown is placed on his head, the sound from the crowd lifts to a roar that rings in the air long after it's over.

* * *

The crown is going to take some getting used to — even by late afternoon, he's not adjusted to the weight of it where it sits in his topknot, and every so often he feels it tilting in place. He's spent the day correcting it, something that Sokka seemed to find endlessly amusing as he helped the Water Tribe teen prepare to travel south.

It's not until he's alone, holed away after the crowds have left and the palace has settled into the early evening, that he lifts it from his hair and turns the shining headpiece around in his hands.

To think that this was what his father had been so hungry for, so driven by. It seems absurd as it shines benignly in the late sunlight that this piece of metal could hold such devastating significance.

His thoughts are broken by the sound of his name coming from the entryway.

'Zuko?'

He jolts to his feet, laying the crown down as Katara steps tentatively into the room. Before he can grasp for a reply, her lips quirk in an attempt at a smile and she speaks again.

'Or should I say _Fire Lord_?'

'No, you—'

'Your Grace?'

'Please don—'

'Sir?'

He snorts at that one, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in only half-feigned exasperation.

'_Zuko_ is definitely fine.'

The lukewarm humour fades swiftly as they stand across the room from each other, the light slowly dwindling as the day comes to a close. He's on the edge of saying the first thing that comes to mind just so he can break the silence, and then he notices the way her hands are clenched together, the way she's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and he realises that there must be a reason why she's here.

'What's wrong?'

She hesitates, then answers with a question of her own.

'Do you have a minute?'

'Yeah... Yes, of course.'

Katara takes a couple more paces into the room, stopping a few yards away. Her eyes keep shifting over him, each time meeting his gaze for a split-second before flitting away again.

'I'm going back to the South Pole.'

It's like a blow to the head. He freezes momentarily, mind blanking for a second as something brutal and icy sweeps up the back of his neck.

'With Sokka?'

The banality of his response makes him want to kick himself, but it's all that will come.

'Yeah.' She wrings her fingers together, shifting agitatedly. 'Not forever, just... I don't know, for a while. I—'

'No, Katara, you don't need to justify anything—'

'But I do, actually. To myself if no one else. I need to be clear on what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, I...'

She presses her lips together and looks away from him for a moment, eyes closing briefly as she finds her conviction, and when she speaks again it is slow and deliberate.

'I'm going back to the South Pole because my people need help to rebuild after the war. There's so much to be done. But I'm also going for me.'

She draws in a deep, quaking breath, and her composure breaks, voice cracking with her next words.

'I didn't think it would feel like this. The end of the war... I didn't think it would feel— I didn't think _I_ would— I need to remember where I come from, and who I am. The last few days, I haven't been sure, and I need to figure out which parts of me are still back there—'

Their gazes meet, something new and substantial darkening in her eyes.

'—and which parts aren't.'

'Of course.'

Because what else is he meant to say?

Realistically, he'd known that everyone would start going their separate ways after the war ended. It was a given, really — they all have homes and families and aspirations of their own. He would've been a fool not to anticipate this.

But it rips so much deeper than he had ever expected, for some reason. He's spent too long feeling alone, pushing back against his uncle's efforts to support him, and now, just as he's started to understand what it's like to let people in, he's about to be alone again.

And the fact that it's time for her to go, her of all people...

This isn't about him, though.

The silence draws out between them, so much to be said that the words just won't seem to come. Her body twists slightly, almost as if to leave, and he finds himself striding forwards until he stands less than a foot from her, and he doesn't know what to say, but-

'Katara...'

'Don't. Please... Don't.'

It's only now that he's closer that he can see the depth of the shadows in her eyes, how hard her hands are shaking, and his chest tightens. Agni, if her decision is hurting her this much... she must really need to leave.

His heartbeat is stumbling again inside him, echoing through his body and thrumming in his head as if he were something hollow and brittle.

The air feels charged and thick, so heavy that it's an effort just to breathe it in.

Slowly, he lifts a hand to lie, palm up, before her, and he realises that he's shaking just as much as she is.

Every movement is gentle, achingly tender, as if they're holding something infinitely fragile between them which might break with the slightest wrong touch; every movement as her hand finds his, her eyes closing as if looking at him is too much, too hard.

He presses briefly at the pulse that beats hard in her wrist, and then he's turning her hand over between his, running his fingertips along her palm. He maps out its creases like he might be able to sway her fortune, brings it up through the space between them and presses it to his lips, curls her fingers over his to do the same across her knuckles.

Her eyes open then, deep and dark in the dying light, and her hand slips out of his grip to hover momentarily in the air over the scar that flares across his face. Then he tilts his head forwards into her, the barest of movements, and her fingers are ghosting over him, tracing the ridges of his skin so lightly that he might not know she was doing it if he weren't so acutely, hopelessly aware of everything about her.

'I'm glad,' she breathes. 'I'm glad that I didn't heal it.'

'So am I.'

They're moving into each other, gravitating slowly together, and as his hand finds the curve of her jaw he takes every second he can get to breathe her in, commit her to memory: the way the light hits her skin, the feel of her lips as his thumb passes softly over them before he leans down to meet them with his own — once, twice — and then the brush of her breath as she leans into him even as he pulls back.

'Zuko, I—'

But what can she possibly say to make this feel alright?

So instead of speaking, she reaches up to take his hand in her own and draws it away from its place on her neck, stepping back from him so that their fingers are their only contact. The look on her face is pained, heart-wrenchingly beautiful as her touch lingers for just a moment longer.

'I'll see you.'

It should be a promise, but it feels like a goodbye.

Then their hands fall apart, and she's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'msorrypleasedon'thateme. I mean, this kind of hurt to write, but it's been planned for ages now and I honestly believe it's what Katara needs at this point.
> 
> Also, I have so many opinions about Aang and his behaviour towards Katara that I may have gotten a little carried away with that section of the chapter. Oops.
> 
> Please review and let me know what you thought!


	11. Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, that took some doing. Sorry for the relatively slow update (although it's almost fitting given the events of the chapter).
> 
> The Harmony Restoration Movement is still a thing in this, but I'm definitely not following the storyline of The Promise in any way. Just taking the concept!
> 
> I hope that all the scoring out is clear, here. The silly things are just leaving so much unacknowledged, there was no way to write letters between them without including some of the things that they weren't saying.

_<strike>Dear</strike> _

_ <strike>Katar</strike> _

_<strike>Dear Ka</strike> _

_Katara,_

_Writing letters isn’t exactly my thing. I never really had to do it before all this. Now it feels as though I spend half my <strike>life</strike> time writing to commissioners and captains and landowners and all the other fun people you get to work with when you’ve somehow ended up leading a nation <strike>by default</strike>. _

_That came out sounding more abrasive than it was meant to._

_What I’m trying to say is that I really don’t know what I’m doing with this – writing to <strike>a friend</strike> <strike>someone you’re close to</strike> someone you know isn’t the same as writing official correspondence. It’s like having a weird one-sided conversation. Sorry if this just ends up sounding <strike>strange</strike> <strike>awkward</strike> too formal or something._

_ <strike>I haven’t heard from you since</strike> _

_ <strike>I don’t really know what</strike>  
_

_ <strike>I’m not sure if you</strike> _

_I think I’m meant to tell you what’s been going on over the last <strike>few weeks</strike> couple of months. <strike>Spirits, it really has been that long.</strike>_

_Turns out that running a country can be kind of complicated. Wish they’d warned me about that at the start._

_That was a joke. _

_Anyway, there’s been a lot going on since the war ended. There’s so much to make up for and so many reparations to be made that it’s hard to keep track of everything. <strike>Honestly, I’m still not sure that I’m built for</strike>_

_ <strike>After you left</strike> _

_There have been lots of discussions with the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes about how to make up for the damage that the Fire Nation caused over the last century, which was always going to be full of tensions and disputes. A lot of it at the moment is about supplying aid and labour to help rebuild and look after citizens who were hurt or displaced in the war, but there’s also been demand for monetary compensation and increased pressures and restrictions on Fire Nation industry, which could result in significant detriments to <strike>my</strike> the country and its people._

_ <strike>Sorry I   
</strike> _

_This is starting to sound like another missive. That’s what I meant about not being used to writing letters that aren’t formal._

_At the end of the day, I don’t want the people to end up paying for the wrongs that my family committed._

_But all of that is only part of what’s been going on – there’s an international tribunal being put together to start trialling the officials and captains who held prominent roles in the planning and perpetration of war crimes, the Fire Nation military is being almost completely repurposed, and our education system is going through an overhaul so that schools can teach honest lessons about our history and the world as it is now._

_That last one is <strike>the most important</strike> the one I feel most strongly about. Not all of the damage done during the war was as visible as battle ships and firestorms. Some of it was more insidious, so now even after all the harm my family caused in other parts of the world, there are still huge numbers of Fire Nation citizens who believe that the war was some kind of humanitarian effort or necessary cull. <strike>I used to believe</strike> Hopefully in time we’ll set the record straight and find balance again, and our people will be able to be citizens of the world as well as of their nation._

_Spirits, that wasn’t meant to sound quite so corny. But yeah, it’s important._

_You’ve probably heard all of this already from Sokka or your father or Aang. <strike>I’m not sure why I</strike>_

_But honestly, there’s not much else to put in a letter right now. There’s so much going on but it’s all work and meetings – stuff that probably doesn’t make for great reading. <strike>The last time I did anything that wasn’t work-related was </strike>_

_ <strike>It’s strange not having you around  
</strike> _

_ <strike>I mi</strike> _

_ <strike>I miss</strike> _

_I hope you’re well <strike>and that being back home is helping with</strike>. Sokka said that the released waterbenders reached the South Pole a few weeks after they left us. That was good to hear. It sounds as though the rebuilding efforts are getting along at a good rate – I hope that’s true._

_ <strike>Would be great to</strike> _

_ <strike>Lov</strike> _

_ <strike>Regards</strike> _

_How are you meant to end one of these?_

_That was kind of a joke too._

_Best wishes,_

_Zuko._

* * *

_Zuko,_

_I can’t really believe how quickly time is passing. Over seven months since the end of the war, <strike>and I’m still getting nightmares about it all</strike> but it feels like no time at all. Do you know what I mean or is it just me? I guess that’s what happens when there’s so much going on._

_I was actually surprised when your last letter made it here okay. The seas around the Pole are rough this winter, not everything’s getting through. But it was good to hear that Toph is finally heading back to the Earth Kingdom to see her parents – she and Iroh must make an odd pair of travellers._

_ <strike>The palace must be quieter without the two of them around</strike> _

_ <strike>How are you feeling now that everyone’s left? Are you doing okay?</strike> _

_Aang was here for a short while a couple of weeks ago and said the same thing you did about the Harmony Restoration Movement picking up a bit now. I suppose it’s just going to take some time to untangle the colonies, but it sounds as though things have started off well._

_I think Sokka was planning on heading back to the Fire Nation in a month or so after stopping by Kyoshi Island. He’s really taking this new ambassadorial role seriously – I think now that the war’s over he’s enjoying being Dad’s right-hand man again. Still slightly scary to think he’ll be taking over as chieftain one day, but I’m actually really proud of how well he’s doing._

_He did suggest that I accompany him on his journey, but <strike>I just don’t think I’m ready</strike> there’s still so much work to be done here that I really don’t think it’ll be possible. Being back home is great and I really feel like I’m making a difference<strike>, but it’s like I can never do quite enough to feel like I’m</strike>._

_ <strike>I still feel like I’m drifting, a little. It’s definitely not as bad as it was before, and being back around my people and the sea and the snow has really helped. But I’m not all there yet. Sometimes I wonder if this is just how I am now. Maybe I’ll never really feel like myself again, maybe that’s just how things go sometimes.</strike> _

_It’s still odd, all of us being off doing our own thing. You’d think it would’ve become normal by now, but every so often it’s like I remember how strange it is not to have everyone around. I miss Toph’s snoring, is that weird?_

_ <strike>And I miss</strike> _

_ <strike>Zuko, I hate the way</strike> _

_ <strike>I’m not sure what exactly</strike> _

_ <strike>Everything happened so quickly that there was no time to figure things out, and</strike> _

_Speaking of snoring, I hope you’re managing to get some kind of rest in between everything. An overworked Fire Lord is an ineffective Fire Lord, as Gran-Gran would say._

_ <strike>All my</strike> _

_ <strike>Yours,</strike> _

_Best wishes,_

_Katara._

* * *

_Katara,_

_I definitely know what you mean – suddenly we’re almost a year in and I have no idea when that happened. I get the feeling that it’s never going to feel completely normal for <strike>us</strike> <strike>all of us</strike> everyone to be in different places. I know I wasn’t with you guys for most of it, but we all travelled for so long and went through so much <strike>together</strike> that being settled <strike>and separate</strike> feels strange now even after ten months of it._

_Missing Toph’s snoring is a bit weird though, yes._

_Uncle tells me that they arrived in Ba Sing Se and Toph stayed for a couple of days before heading down to Gaoling. He received a letter not too long afterwards to say that she reached her parents’ home safely and that they’ve managed to patch things up, which is good. _

_The two of them really do get along well. Probably too well, from someone who had to pretend to ignore them looking for ways to amuse themselves around the palace for seven months. The staff found them far too amusing, like either of them needed the encouragement._

_It was great having Sokka here last month, but I’ll need to remember to hide the umeshu next time he visits – definitely not looking for a repeat of that. He was invaluable at the reparations meeting, though. Argued very convincingly that compensation should be taken in instalments rather than in the lump sum that some of the representatives were pushing for, and managed to sway a majority vote which basically saved the Fire Nation from financial ruin. Which is what prompted the umeshu, of course._

_ <strike>I wish you were</strike> _

_ <strike>It would’ve been great to see</strike> _

_ <strike>Sorry that you couldn’t make it</strike> _

_I’m glad that you’re enjoying being back home and that everything’s shaping up well. If you do find yourself in a position to take some time away from the South Pole at some point then <strike>I would be</strike> <strike>I would love</strike> there’s always room at the palace._

_Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman – I’m pretty sure Uncle gave me a similar warning about getting enough rest before he left. <strike>But I’m afraid I must disappoint</strike> I’m doing my best, <strike>but</strike> <strike>you know how it is</strike> but I suppose there’s still a lot to get done. _

_Whilst he was here, Uncle helped me to put together a board of advisors and officers who have been inexpressibly helpful in getting everything sorted out, but there’s always another meeting or negotiation or round of paperwork that needs attention. <strike>And now the Sages are starting to get pushy about addressing the line of succession which means</strike>_

_What about the waterbenders you mentioned – the two who presented towards the end of the war? I know they’re young, but have you been able to start any training with them yet?_

_Either way, it’s still a nice thought that waterbenders are emerging in the Southern Water Tribe again.<strike> and you’re not alone anymore.</strike>_

_ <strike>Katara, I</strike> _

_My regards to your father, grandmother, and Master Pakku._

_Best wishes,_

_Zuko._

* * *

It had been naïve to think that the umeshu would stay hidden for long. Then again, Zuko isn’t exactly complaining.

The last time he and Sokka drank together wasn’t the... _tidiest_ of events. As he recalls (and admittedly the details are a tad hazy), it had ended with some _minor_ structural damage to the palace, three traumatised staff members, and a cracking headache – the latter being the only part of it all that Zuko will claim as his own – but by the gods it had been the most fun he’d had since becoming Fire Lord.

Of course, back then they’d had at least a vague excuse to break into some slightly ill-advised celebrations. This time, all it takes is eighteen months’ worth of stress and some extremely unsubtle prompting from Sokka to break his usually solid self-control and bring out the bottle.

They’re a few drinks in, trading grievances and stories from the last few months as they lounge in the reception room of Zuko’s quarters after a day of trade negotiations. The seriousness that Sokka reserves for official business has evaporated, and now Zuko finds himself grinning with long-missed sincerity as his friend works his way through a full-out performance of a conversation he had with one of the tribesmen back in the South Pole.

‘...and then _I_ said, I said “if that’s a fish, then I’m a tiger seal”!’

It’s clearly meant to be some kind of punchline, signposted by the way Sokka spreads his hands and waits eagerly for a reaction. Zuko frowns, tripping slowly back through the tale in his mind.

‘What? That doesn’t even make-’ He shakes his head, the plum wine pulling a despairing laugh out of him. ‘Man, that was terrible.’

Sokka’s expression snaps into one of comic outrage.

‘Hey! It was hilarious!’

‘Hilariously bad.’

‘Okay, Dire Lord, you wanna go?’ He stands from the floor, making a show of stretching out his limbs as he reaches for the sword that leans against the table. ‘I’ve been practising, I’ll beat your ass right here.’

Zuko’s pretty sure it’s just posturing, a good-natured nod to some of Sokka’s more belligerent moments, but they’ve both had a few and he can’t help an alcohol-steeped flashback to the chaos caused the last time he saw Sokka wielding a sword under the influence.

‘Hey, wait, no, just- Sit _down_, Sokka. I’ve got enough to do without having to deal with getting repairs done to the palace again.’

Sokka chuckles as he sinks to the floor in an ungainly sprawl, the butt-end of his sword resting on the palm of his hand as he balances it point-up in the air. His eyes don’t leave the sway of the (thankfully sheathed) blade, but the balancing act doesn’t seem to put him off delving into another thread of conversation.

‘Mate, why do you always do that?’

Zuko frowns.

‘Do what?’

‘You always call it _The Palace_.’ The capitalisation is clear in Sokka’s tone. ‘You know, _The Palace this, The Palace that_. You never call it _home_.’

The words draw a deep sigh out of Zuko’s chest before he can stop it. He takes another swallow from his cup, grimacing slightly against the burn of the alcohol as well as the subject matter.

‘Yeah.’

Sokka’s quiet for a moment, just long enough that Zuko wonders if he’s gotten distracted by his mission to keep the sword upright.

But then-

‘That sucks.’

‘Yeah.’

The tension in Zuko’s shoulders eases, and he lets out a breath of relief that his friend doesn’t seem to be trying to dig any further into the topic – an acknowledgement, an opportunity for Zuko to talk about it if he wants to, nothing more forceful than that.

Because of course this place with its advisors and strains and restrictions doesn’t feel like home, this place where he’s always Fire Lord and never just Zuko, this place where most of his worst memories rest.

But it’s not as if that’s going to change any time soon. No point in pulling at that particular thorn.

Instead, he lets the warmth of the plum liqueur run through him, rests his weight back on his elbows, and changes the subject.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking it might be time for a trip to the South Pole.’

Sokka’s eyes are fixed on his sword, but Zuko can see the bemused quirk of the other man’s eyebrow.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I mean, it’s been a year and a half since the war ended. I’ve paid a few visits to the Earth Kingdom already.’

Flicking the sword into the air, Sokka catches the pommel with a sureness that belies the amount he’s had to drink and lays the blade down, turning to face Zuko with a calculating squint.

‘Right, but that was to tour the colonies. Aren’t any of those in the South Pole.’

Zuko shrugs.

‘All the work that’s being done there is only necessary because of the Fire Nation – it feels wrong to be having all these discussions about reparations without actually seeing what’s being done.’

It feels like a reasonable enough point to him, but Sokka’s still giving him that look that’s somehow both suspicious and knowing. A smirk that makes Zuko feel profoundly unnerved starts to play across his friend’s face, and he lifts his cup to his lips again in an attempt to escape the scrutiny.

‘I mean, sure, that makes sense, come by whenever. But let me get this straight - you’re saying that this has absolutely nothing to do with you wanting to see my sister?’

Zuko chokes, the alcohol burning as it catches in his throat, and he just barely manages to get a word out past the fit of coughing that follows.

‘W- What?’

‘My sister. You know the one – waterbender, about yea tall, dark hair. Kind of annoying.’ The smirk is fully-blown now as Sokka scrunches his face in mock contemplation. ‘What was her name, I always forget... Something with a K?’

‘Sokka...’

‘No, no, that’s _my_ name. C’mon, hotshot, keep up.’

It’s all Zuko can do to sputter out fragments of thoughts as they swirl through his head.

‘I’m not-... Katara and I-...’

Sokka snaps his fingers.

‘Katara! _That’s_ it. Yeah, you’re into her.’

‘I haven’t even seen her in over a year.’

‘You’re _very_ into her.’

‘Will you stop saying that?’

‘Why, ‘cause it’s true?’

There’s a pause as Zuko stares helplessly at the Water Tribe man.

The thing is, he’s been very carefully avoiding any kind of acknowledgement, even really to himself, about all _that_. Yes, they had had those... moments right after the war ended when everything spilled over and they both seemed to lose themselves or find themselves or whatever it was that had happened, but then she’d left. And she’d left so _suddenly_.

Maybe it had all been something.

Not maybe.

It _was_ something, it...

But there’d been no time, no time to figure out what it all meant or what it _could_ mean or what _they_ could mean, and he’s pretty certain that there’s no point in trying to figure it out now. She’s there, and he’s here. Dwelling on it all just... stings.

So he’s been doing a pretty good job of ignoring it, on the whole. And when those feelings leak out onto the page as he’s writing to her, he scores it out and rewrites and ignores that too.

He finds himself on his feet, Sokka looking up at him as he turns one way and then the other, almost as if looking for some kind of escape. When none makes itself known, he pinches the bridge of his nose before running his hand back through his hair to rub at the nape of his neck. Then, releasing a long, defeated breath, he lowers himself back down to the floor.

‘How did you know?’

‘I’m guessing you mean aside from the fact that it’s just really, really obvious?’

He shoots Sokka a glare and the tribesman lifts his hands in mock surrender, a hint of a laugh making its way out of his mouth.

‘Alright, alright... But I mean, really, man. You joined us, Katara got over her whole thing about hating you, and then all of a sudden Mr I’m-Never-Happy was messing around, you know, making jokes and shit? _Then_ you jumped in front of your crazy sister’s lightning for her. And _then_ after we got back to the South Pole these letters started turning up every couple of months – never any for me, I noticed, just sayin’ pal – but come on...’

It’s a lot, hearing it all coming from someone else, listening to Sokka state it all so directly when Zuko’s only been allowing himself to look at it side-on at most. And he has no clue what to say in response.

‘Since when were you this perceptive?’

That works.

Sokka looks affronted, rising up onto his knees to grab the bottle off the table and pour them each another round, then gesticulating vehemently with his cup as he speaks.

‘Okay, first off, don’t need to be perceptive when it’s that obvious. Secondly, why does everyone seem to think I’m completely unaware of everything going on around me? I’m a _warrior_. I see stuff! I led men twice my age into battle when I was _sixteen_.’

There’s a moment of silence as they both contemplate what he’s said.

‘Yeah, they never should’ve let you do that.’

‘Oh, absolutely not, terrible idea. How did that whole thing not end up going seriously wrong?’

Zuko snorts.

‘Beats me, man.’

Another pause, and his hand comes up to rub absentmindedly at the scar that sits under his tunic – a habit when he’s uncertain, he’s noticed.

‘So it doesn’t bother you? Me...’

He still can’t bring himself to actually say it out loud, but Sokka picks up on his meaning.

‘You being topknot over heels for Katara? No, should it?’

‘I don’t know.’ He’s not exactly well-versed in brotherhood. _Functional_ brotherhood, anyway. ‘Aren’t you meant to...’

‘Meant to... What? Defend her honour? Ward off any guy who looks in her direction? You’ve _met_ Katara, right, how well do you reckon that’d go down?’

A smile spreads unbidden across Zuko’s face at the thought, and he lets out a laugh that really isn’t anything more than a breath.

‘Yeah. Yeah, she’d kick your ass.’

‘Um, I’d give her a run for her money, thanks. But yeah, she would.’

Zuko’s gaze moves from the golden liquid that sits in his cup to land on his friend, and he winces internally at how tentative his next words sound.

‘She... She’s doing okay, right?’

Sokka looks back at him, lips tightening as he weighs up his answer.

‘On the whole, yeah. Definitely better than before. But she’s still...’ He sighs, shakes his head. ‘I don’t know, man. I think she might have gotten everything she can out of just being back home now. It was good for her for a while, but she’s kind of outgrown it, you know?’ He pauses, and a hint of the smirk returns to his face. ‘But yeah, she’s doing fine. No need for you to get your crown all crooked.’

_Way too late for that._

He’s already having to work to contain the jar of beetle worms that Sokka’s opened, can already feel that ridiculous, achy, pining feeling that tugs behind his navel starting up. Spirits, _pining_. A year and a half past, and it only takes one conversation to bring it rushing back and make him feel unsteady all over again. He’d laugh if it weren’t so gods-loving tragic.

The fact that he’s well on his way to drunk right now probably – definitely – isn’t helping.

That doesn’t stop him from throwing back what’s left in his cup before hauling himself up onto his feet and twisting his back until it cracks.

‘Kitchens?’

Sokka’s eyes brighten, and he leaps up from the floor so fast he almost trips over his discarded sword.

‘That,’ he says, pointing vigorously at Zuko. ‘That right there, that’s the best thing you’ve ever said.’

He picks up the now almost-empty bottle from the table, claps Zuko hard on the shoulder, and grins.

‘I knew there was a reason I kept coming here.’

‘Besides the fact that it’s your job? And that you seem to have a strong desire to get pulverized in a duel every few months?’

‘You know what, I’m so happy about getting food that I’m gonna let that one slide.’

‘Hey, Sokka.’

‘Uh-huh?’

‘Remind me to make sure we don’t have any of that stuff in the palace the next time you visit.’

* * *

_Dear Zuko,_

_I’m sorry it’s been a while since I wrote – things have been busy. Or rather, I don’t know if ‘busy’ is the right word, exactly. Just eventful._

_I left the South Pole a couple of weeks ago and reached Kyoshi Island yesterday. _

_It’s difficult to say everything that’s been going on in a letter, but I’ll try my best. The thing is, I’d thought being back in my village might fix everything and, surprise, it didn’t. It definitely helped, in a lot of ways, and I’m definitely not saying that the South Pole isn’t still a huge part of who I am, but I don’t think it really feels like home anymore. Not fully._

_After how chaotic the war was, being back did feel stabilising and... safe, I guess? For a while it was good. And then it was like one day I woke up and realised it wasn’t enough._

_I feel okay about that. I didn’t for a long time – the thought made me feel so guilty, it was like I was betraying my place and my people and everything that we’d been working so hard to protect and restore. I think I forced it for a long time, kind of knowing that it wasn’t right but not wanting to face that. But now it’s different._

_ <strike>Did you say anything about me when</strike> _

_ <strike>What did you and Sokka</strike> _

_Did you and Sokka talk about me when he was there last winter? I only ask because after that visit he came back with some pretty strong opinions about how ‘there’s more to the world than just the South Pole’ and ‘I reckon everyone here has had enough of you by now, go annoy some other people’._

_He’s got a way with words, hasn’t he?_

_So I don’t know if it was because of something you guys talked about or not, but either way it actually really helped._

_I know I’m rambling. Sorry._

_The short version of all this is that I’m going to study healing. My plan at the moment is to stay on Kyoshi for a few weeks, learning their methods for treating combat wounds, and Ty Lee and I are going to explore healing via chi paths. Then after that I’ll be travelling east to Gaoling to see Toph and study crush injuries at the Earth Rumble arena, then along the western edge of the Si Wong Desert and round to Ba Sing Se to help reverse the brainwashing done by the Dai Li... _

_The goal is to work my way up to the North Pole to learn more about the healing properties of the Spirit Oasis, but hopefully by the time I get there I’ll have trained in all sorts of different techniques, both bending and non-bending._

_Gods, I’m really going on. Is it obvious that I’m excited?_

_But there’s so much to see and do and learn and honestly, this is the best I’ve felt in ages. I feel like I can breathe properly again. Or is that just melodramatic of me?_

_It feels right. And it only took me two years to figure out. _

_Whilst we're on the topic, I had thought that I might travel down to the colonies from the North Pole – there are always interesting practices and new innovations going on in places where cultures meet, right?_

_ <strike>I’m not sure exac</strike> _

_ <strike>It would be great to see you at some</strike> _

_I’m not sure exactly when that will be, but it would be great to see you at some point if things happen to line up right. No pressure or anything at all, I know how busy you are and that you can't just leave whenever you want. But yeah, it would be great.  
_

_ <strike>I still feel as though we</strike> _

_ <strike>I still feel</strike> _

_I hope that you’re doing okay. _

_And hey, I’ve been talking about myself this whole time and haven’t said anything about your visit to the Sun Warriors! I couldn’t believe it when I got your letter about the dragon egg, what an incredible gift! It must be close to hatching now, right?_

_I won’t be here on Kyoshi for long, but if you write to the Bei Fongs then I’ll be able to pick up the letter when I reach Gaoling. I'll keep you posted on where I'm headed as I go, so hopefully we'll be able to keep up contact.  
_

_Sorry again for the gap. Things just got a bit too much for a while._

_ <strike>It’s nice to be</strike> _

_It’s nice to be writing to you again._

_Best wishes,_

_Katara.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love that I can write Katara sounding happier now - she just needed to find her own way a bit.
> 
> And Sokka is just thriving in general. He's living his best life. I've never felt at all as though he would take issue with Katara being in a relationship - I think it's generally accepted that Sokka has the healthiest relationships out of everyone in the show - and it always felt off that he was weird about her and Aang being affectionate in The Promise. So this is my version of him. He's chill, he pokes a bit of fun, but I'm pretty sure he ships it. Also, 'Dire Lord' just really tickled me.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of the time skip, it's always hard to convey that sort of thing properly and track characters' growth through it in a way that feels organic and not like a whole bunch of exposition.
> 
> I can't promise that the next chapter won't also take some time. I'm in the middle of moving house and also studying for a big paeds exam at the moment, so writing time is thinner on the ground than usual. But it will be in progress! No hiatuses planned or anything like that.
> 
> Drop your reviews into the comment box!


	12. Assembly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say, guys. It's been a long haul, this chapter, and that's for a number of reasons - life's been a bit busy, Christmas is coming up, I had internet issues... Plus some more exciting stuff.
> 
> Basically, every time I write I realise how much more I *want* to write, and how much more there is to say in this story. So I've been putting together all these other bits that are going to come into play later on (some much later on), and here's a wee taster of what's coming:
> 
> We're going to find out what's been happening to Azula post-war (although that might be a separate companion fic, 'cause I kind of want it to be from Azula's perspective and that doesn't work here)  
I'm introducing at least three new characters  
Toph's finally going to get her field trip with Zuko  
I'm going to at least touch on what happened to Zuko's mum (again, might be a separate fic)  
We're meeting an old friend of Suki's  
Dragon times  
Multiple assassination attempts (not just on Zuko)  
Katara's going to put all her healing training to good use (#ominous)  
Some drunken chat, a bit of bloodbending, and a whole lot of tension
> 
> PLUS one more wee surprise which I'll put in my note at the end of the chapter, just 'cause I feel like I'm really going on now and let's get started with the chapter already.

It takes Zuko all of thirty seconds to reach the conclusion that the guy is trouble.

'Liu Jun, Your Grace; delegate of Earth King Kuei, representative for the Earth Kingdom.'

Never mind the fact that there wasn't meant to be a delegate here at all, that this was planned as a meeting between the two heads of state – after three years on the throne, he's gotten almost too accustomed to improvising when things don't go the way he expects.

But there's something off, something oily about the man that Kuei has sent in his place, some other agenda lurking beneath his deferential façade, and Zuko is taken by the unpleasant feeling that this round of negotiations isn't going to be straightforward.

Still, he grits his teeth and takes a breath, inclining his head in response to Jun's bow before speaking.

'Your hospitality is much appreciated. I expected nothing less from the people of Yu Dao.'

The man smiles, a genial curve of the lips that isn't quite matched by the gleam in his eyes.

'It is, of course, our honour.' He directs his attention towards the rest of the group as they enter Yu Dao's assembly hall in Zuko's wake. 'My, my, you've got a crowd with you. Bringing a band of friends along to an international diplomatic meeting is somewhat unconventional, wouldn't you say?'

The smile hasn't slipped from Jun's face, but Zuko knows a jibe when he hears one. As if he hasn't spent the last three years meeting with people who say all the right words but lace them with all the wrong intentions, people who think he's too young, too inexperienced, too irreverent of the ridiculous unspoken rules which govern the games played in politics.

He can already tell that this guy takes advantage of every loophole he can, that he plays to win.

Nope, he _definitely_ doesn't like him.

But Zuko's been playing for long enough himself that he knows how to return a shot.

'I certainly would say that, yes, but I hope that things will be made clearer with some introductions: might I present Sokka, ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe, and Aang, the Avatar, both here to act as third-party representatives for their respective nations in this _international_ diplomatic meeting. I believe that King Kuei has made it clear in the past that he supports full cooperation between all nations on such important matters, including input from those who aren't directly involved.'

Something tightens in Jun's face – annoyance, with any luck, that Zuko seems to have side-stepped his blow – and he gives an excessively deep bow towards the two men before turning to look past Zuko's other shoulder.

'And the young ladies?'

'Security,' Toph grunts, lisping slightly around the finger that's currently engaged in trying to pick something out of one of her back teeth.

Zuko rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and clears his throat pointedly – the earthbender stops, sighs, then withdraws the offending finger and shoots him a grin dripping with sarcasm.

Turning back to Jun, Zuko allows the amusement that he's holding back to leak out onto his face just a little.

'It's my privilege to introduce Toph and Suki, citizens of the Earth Kingdom who have been kind enough to offer their perspectives on the colonies during negotiations so far.'

'Ah, I see. Toph. Of the Bei Fong family, unless I'm mistaken?'

Toph's eyes widen fractionally, her brow furrowing, and her voice comes out pressured and brisk.

'How do you know that?'

Her words are met with a chuckle from Jun that lacks any real warmth.

'It is my business to keep up to date with the high-profile members of Earth Kingdom society. As I understand it, though, your parents haven't seen you in years – in fact, rumour has it you haven't set foot in Gaoling since you left to follow the Avatar.'

The air whistles through her teeth as Toph sucks in a sharp breath, clearly thrown, and juts out her chin obstinately.

'I don't see how that's any of your-'

Okay.

Ordinarily, interrupting Toph when she's got that face on isn't something Zuko would consider particularly _safe_. And he can't pretend he's not nonplussed by the news that she hasn't actually been at home for the last three years like everyone thought, that the story she told Katara about being unexpectedly out of town when the waterbender arrived in Gaoling was a lie.

But Jun is looking all too pleased to have gotten under her skin, and they've still got a whole day ahead of them, and Toph laying waste to an important delegate isn't exactly the way he'd envisaged this meeting going.

So he cuts in, pulling Jun's attention away from the riled sixteen-year-old.

'I must admit, I had thought that King Kuei might be glad to see our two Earth Kingdom friends again, what with the work they've been doing at home to help with restorations. But then-' He pauses, just for a fraction of a second. '-King Kuei isn't here, is he?'

Jun meets his eyes, unflinching.

'Unfortunately, His Grace continues to carry a significant workload as he tries to bring the nation back to order following the war. He is unable to attend every meeting that requires his attention. I would think that you might understand that, my Lord.'

Sokka jumps in over Zuko's shoulder.

'Right, exactly, and Zuko's here, isn't he?'

'As would be expected of the leader of the Fire Nation, as a gesture of goodwill when negotiating the management of the colonies that his country created, yes.'

And with that, sporting an expression that Zuko can only describe as smug, the Earth Kingdom representative smooths down the front of his robes and turns to lead the group into their meeting room.

'Gods, he's fun,' mutters Suki, prompting a snort from Sokka.

'Yeah, what a dipshit. _Bringing a band of friends along to an internaaaational diplomatic meeeeeting is somewhat unconventional-_'

He's cut off as Aang joins in, bending into a ludicrously deep bow that has the loose folds of his outer robe brushing the floor.

'-_wouldn't you saaaaay_?'

Despite how undeniably inappropriate his friends are being, Zuko can't help cracking a smile as he gestures at them to cut it out. Not for the first time, he's struck hard by how glad he is that they're here, that this isn't something he's doing alone.

Three years. _Three years_ since they were all in the same place, and now...

In the rare moments that he gets to himself, when his thoughts aren't full of council meetings and legislative proposals, he finds his mind meandering to moments like this one, where his laugh is genuine rather than forced and he's surrounded by people who know the difference between the two.

And in two days' time – Agni, in _two days_ – their group will be complete again. Thinking about the fact that Katara will be joining them before the week's end sends something swooping violently through his stomach, a feeling that he's long since realised isn't worth denying anymore.

They've been writing, every month or so, back and forth for the last year. And it's been great having that connection back after how quiet everything got between them, her letters an all-too-welcome escape from palace life across to wherever she happens to be at the time.

But the thought of her being here, _here_, right in front of him?

It makes him so nervous that he thinks he might throw up if he lingers on it for too long.

'As much as I'm sure you're all giggling about something important, should we perhaps get started with discussions, Lord Zuko?'

Jun's voice pulls him back to the present, and Zuko turns to find the Earth Kingdom man looking decidedly self-righteous in the doorway to the meeting room.

'Of course. My apologies.'

_Well, here we go_.

* * *

It's every bit as bad as he expected.

Jun is unyielding and absolute in his – King Kuei's – demands for the return of Earth Kingdom land, unmoving as stone against any form of compromise, ranging from wilfully deaf to actively disparaging of the points they put forward.

'Of _course_ the Fire Nation has no claim to the land, I respect that completely. But Fire Nation citizens have been contributing to the production and industry that's been fuelling the city's development for over a hundred and thirty years now – that can't be overlooked.'

'You make an interesting point, Lord Zuko.'

'I... What?'

'Very interesting. Alright, the citizens of the Fire Nation who provide active profit to the city will be allowed to stay on a conditional basis so long as they continue to contribute to a specified level.'

'That's not quite what I-'

'So when will you be coming to remove your crippled and decrepit from the city?'

By the time they break, three hours in, he's on the brink of banging his head against the table. He strides from the meeting room, fists tight, smoke seeping through his fingers in a way that he's been trying to hide for the last twenty minutes. The atrium opens out in front of him, and he slows to a stand, pulling back his control with a few deep breaths until his fingers loosen and the heat in them calms.

His friends have trailed out behind him, and he turns to them, running a hand hard across his brow in frustration.

'I can't do anything right, can I?'

'Uh-oh, Sparky's regressing.'

He scowls. Not that it has any effect on Toph.

'Hey, I didn't mean it like that.'

The irritated edge in his voice is rewarded with an emphatic elbow to the ribs and a snigger from the earth bender, then he finds himself sighing in exasperation as Sokka pipes up and the quiet of the atrium dissolves.

'You know, it's kind of refreshing to watch you hit someone else for once.'

Aang's eyebrows raise, and he shakes his head in mock-despair at the tribesman.

'You really didn't think before speaking just then, did you?'

'Hey, I thought just fine.'

'I'm just saying, it kind of seems like, you know, tempting fate.'

'Look, kid, I know you're the Avatar and everyone loves you since you saved the world and all that, but you've gotta realise there are still some things I know more about than you – I'm just better versed in the art of conversation. It's okay, four years is a big age difference, you've got plenty of time to learn.'

'Um... Okay.'

'Okay.'

Silence for a moment.

'Hey, Snoozles, think fast!'

'Gah! You always hurt me – why does she _always_ have to hurt me?'

'I mean, I think we all saw that one coming.'

Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose. _Spirits, so this is what a migraine feels like._

'_Guys_. Can we focus? Jun's not accepting any of this, I _literally_ can't do anything right, here.'

'Yeah, the guy's a top-grade hog-monkey fart, it's no wonder you're not getting anywhere.'

'Helpful, Toph. Can always count on you.'

'You bet.'

'Lord Zuko.'

The voice rings out across the hall and he just manages to bite back a groan, turning reluctantly to be met by the sight of a stern-faced dark-haired woman in black and red uniform walking at speed in their direction.

'Aneko, I really don't-'

He's cut off by Suki, who lets out an uncharacteristic squeak from next to him, a surprised beam spreading fast across her face.

'Aneko? _Wow_... Hi!' Striding forwards, she offers a hasty but low bow to the older woman before straightening up and clasping her in a hug, questions coming out half-formed in her excitement. 'What are you-? Why are-? You're working for Zuko now?'

Zuko answers for her, feeling entirely bewildered by the unexpected friendliness between the two women.

'She is. You two are...?

He tails off, not even sure where to start with guessing how they know each other.

'Oh, Aneko was a guest sifu on Kyoshi all the time when I was young – the last time we saw each other must've been, what, six or seven years ago now?'

Aneko lets out a chuckle.

'Yeah, you were a lot smaller then. I'm surprised you even remember me.'

'Are you kidding?' Suki turns back to the group, face animated as she reminisces. 'I was the oldest student in my village, surrounded by kids all the time, being taught by all these middle-aged women, and then this twenty-something tantojutsu master from the _Fire Nation_ of all places comes along and... Gods, you were just so cool.'

The chuckle becomes a self-conscious laugh which reverberates slightly off the tiling in the atrium.

'Well, I'm glad I made an impression. Have you kept up your training?'

'Oh,' Suki flushes. 'Not nearly as much as I'd have liked to recently. The last year or so of the war got a bit... busy.' Then her face lights up again. 'But hey, maybe we could do a few sessions? If you're around for a while, I mean. What is it you do here?'

'I've been head of Lord Zuko's security detail for the last year or so.'

Zuko finds he's unable to stop the words from grumbling out of his mouth.

'Unfortunately not a decision that I had any say in.'

'Oh. Well, I mean...' Suki looks put out. 'She's one of the best, I think you'd struggle to find anyone more suited for the job-'

Aneko darts in, wry amusement flashing across her face.

'Oh, no, he means hiring a security detail at all.'

'I don't need a babysitter.'

He can feel himself being churlish – _man, Toph was right, you are regressing_ – but this has been a sore point ever since the security team was instated, a grating reminder of how not _his own_ his life has become. Aang's voice echoes the one that gripes childishly in his head.

'But you're the Fire Lord – don't you get to make all the decisions about your staff?'

'You would think so. But she won't leave.'

Aneko draws herself up and, as if by rote, launches into a spiel that he's heard annoyingly regularly since she started working at the palace.

'Lord Zuko, I have been positioned here by your uncle and given strict instruction not to accept any dismissal from you. I have explained this before. Many times.'

'That doesn't change my feelings about it.'

'And your feelings don't change my orders.'

He sighs.

'Was there something you wanted to tell me?'

'Just keeping you updated – there's a small crowd outside protesting the division of Yu Dao's citizens. Doesn't seem to be hostile but we're keeping an eye on the situation.'

'Great, okay, thanks.'

She raises an eyebrow at his surliness, looking almost reprimanding in a way that rankles him even more, before dropping into a bow that seems somewhat less than sincere. Clasping a friendly hand briefly on Suki's shoulder, she nods once to the others, and walks away towards the main doors.

'So, not your favourite person, Zuko?' quips Sokka, his arm coming up to wrap around Suki's shoulders and squeeze her into his side.

'Good instincts, Snoozles. Is that what you meant about being well-versed in the art of conversation?'

Zuko stops listening as Sokka and Toph devolve into bickering again. He breaks away from the group and heads for a side door, stepping out of the atrium and into the gardens that back onto the quarters reserved for visiting dignitaries.

Druk is stretched lazily across the grass only a few steps from the building, warming himself in the midday heat. As Zuko approaches, his eyes crack open, head lifting, and then the young dragon is lumbering up off the ground, taking a few seconds to rise fully in his sun-drunk state.

When he had first hatched, just shy of a year ago, he'd been the length of Zuko's forearm. Now, still at only a fraction of what will eventually be his full height, he's roughly the size of a komodo rhino, standing taller than Zuko himself so that the firebender needs to stretch up to scratch behind his ears.

'Hey, buddy. How's it going out here?'

Druk lets out a droning hum as he twists to the side, directing Zuko to another spot on his head.

'Well, it seems like you're having a better time than I am. It's not going well – this guy is giving me nothing, and he's a real piece of work with it. You're lucky you don't have to deal with people like that.'

Hot air rushes over him as the dragon comes close, nosing against his hands and butting at his shoulder.

'Hey, hey, okay! Okay, fine.' Zuko laughs despite everything. 'You know, sometimes I think you only hang around for my bending. That hurts, buddy.'

Sparks flicker from Druk's nose as he snorts, sounding almost as though he's laughing himself, then he turns and breaks into a brief run before launching smoothly into the air.

Full-bodied jets of fire erupt from the dragon's mouth, and Zuko grins as he lets loose his own bursts of flame to twist upwards, watching Druk wind his way between the flashes of heat and light.

It's not quite the Dancing Dragon, but it's close – a version of the original that the two of them fell into as Druk learned to fly. Zuko has found that, whatever else he has going on at any particular time, there's always a serenity to the flow of the sequence, the way the movements feel like second-nature. On days like this, he could swear that, even from his place on the ground, he can feel the wind on his own face as Druk turns through the air above him.

He's helped keep Zuko sane, this strange, impossible creature that bonded to him long before hatching.

Distantly, he thinks he can hear his name being called, but for a second he's too caught up in the spinning tendrils of fire to respond.

Then-

'Hey, Bonfire Butt, get back in here!'

Toph's voice breaks through the reverie, and the flames dissipate as Druk makes his way back down to land on the grass.

'Sorry, pal,' Zuko sighs. 'Guess I've got to go and see what that's about. I'll be back out later.'

Druk nudges his shoulder once more, as if to say there are no hard feelings, then wanders slowly away to the spot in the gardens where Zuko knows Appa likes to rest.

'Hey, don't go causing any trouble. You know you're already on thin ice with the big guy.'

The dragon rumbles deep in his throat, and Zuko chuckles as he turns back towards the halls.

Entering back into the cool shade of the atrium, he's acutely aware that the energy has changed since he left - everyone's focus seems to be on Toph, and she's grinning like she's just single-handedly levelled the Great Divide. Which, to him at least, seems like an ominous sign.

'You called?'

'Yeah, and you answered to Bonfire Butt. Come on, you're gonna like this.'

'Like what?'

'Just give it a second.'

'She's said that four times now.'

'Jeez, you guys are seriously impatient. Seriously, give it a sec... Wait for it... Aaaaaaand _there_ we go.'

As she speaks, the main door to the assembly halls swings inwards, light surging in from the outside-

And a startlingly familiar figure in blue steps into the atrium.

Forget swooping – it's like his stomach has just dropped through his feet.

The smile on Katara's face is blinding, radiating joy as she takes in the stunned faces in front of her. Toph is the first to break from the group, marching forwards to land a well-placed blow on Katara's shoulder before pulling her roughly into a tight hug that sends the waterbender off-balance.

'Wow, my gods...' Katara laughs as she rights herself, slightly baffled but clearly thrilled by the unusual show of affection. 'Toph! Spirits, you're so much taller than you were, that's so weird. When's the last time I saw you?'

'I'd say a fair bit more recently than the last time I saw you.'

'Yeah, okay, hilarious as always.'

She and Toph part, the two of them moving into the atrium towards the rest of the group, and Zuko finds some stiff movement in his legs as he and the others meet them halfway.

She looks... Well, of course she looks good, she _always_–... But in all his clearest memories of her, good or otherwise, she's weighed down by the burdens of the war, her face shadowed by the uncertainty and unrest that stained everything in those last frenzied weeks.

Now her familiar features are lighter, somehow, her skin soaking up the sunlight that still pours through the open doors, her smile easy and weightless.

She looks happy. Really, genuinely happy, and the effect it's having on him is... well, pretty pathetic, actually.

'I guess I already knew _you_ were taller than me,' Katara jokes, wrapping Aang in a quick embrace before pulling back to smile up at him, and the young man laughs good-naturedly.

'Yeah, nothing new up my sleeve from the last few weeks.'

Suki joins the conversation as she and Sokka both move in to greet Katara.

'What happened? We didn't think you'd get here for another couple of days!'

'Oh, Yugoda's daughter went into labour sooner than expected, so she went to help look after her and I got an earlier ship. I thought it might be a nice surprise.'

Her eyes slide over to him as she speaks, and he doesn't miss the flash of uncertainty, the upwards lilt to her voice that makes it sound as if she's asking a question. A smile that he couldn't hold back if his life depended on it tugs at the corners of his mouth.

'It is.' He clears his throat. 'Um... Hi.'

_Great_. _Real eloquent, Zuko_.

She stifles a laugh, and he's so busy kicking himself that he nearly doesn't catch the way she takes him in, her gaze skimming fleetingly over him before coming to rest back on his face.

'Hi.'

They fall silent, and he becomes horribly conscious of how deliberate the conversation going on amongst the others is, how much effort they're putting into pretending that they're not paying attention to the clumsy exchange.

Katara must notice too, because she gives a brief roll of her eyes, the smile never leaving her face, and moves forwards into him. His arms open automatically, inevitably, and then she's there, and she feels the same in his embrace as she did three years ago.

It makes approximately no sense to him how he can feel so comfortable and yet so devastatingly, profoundly awkward at the same time – Agni, has he forgotten how to hug? Where does he usually put his hands? – and he finds himself letting go of her just a little abruptly, a little quickly, if only because he's worried that otherwise he might hold on for too long.

With a safe amount of space back between the two of them, Katara turns slightly to take in the whole group.

'It is _so_ good to see you all again. Seriously, I-... Ah...' She stops, distracted, and nods their attention towards the far end of the atrium. 'I think someone might be looking for you.'

Zuko twists to see an unwelcome figure in green standing in the doorway to the meeting room.

For a moment, he'd all but forgotten about Jun.

Gods alive, this day is keeping him on his toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Katara's back! And they're all together again! And older!
> 
> (On the note of them being older, just for the nit-pickers, I kind of figured that they're roughly a year older by the end of the series than they were at the start, which is why I've aged them all up four years total rather than three from the ages we're used to them being. Just to clarify.)
> 
> The wee surprise that I mentioned at the top is a short Winter Solstice one-shot that I've also been working on. It's completely detached from this story, but still Zutara (obvs), so make sure you tune in on the 22nd to catch that.
> 
> Finally, shout out to wisdom_bringer for prodding me. Yes, it was over a week ago so it probably didn't make a difference to the actual posting time (wow, I'm realising how long it's actually been since I updated and I really am sorry, lads), but it made me feel very loved and I always appreciate someone who's keen to keep reading!


	13. Serpentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO YES IT'S BEEN A LITTLE WHILE. Sorry about that - don't blame me, blame the children of Northern England for all being sick *all the time*. It's definitely their fault. Yes, I'm playing the 'busy doctor' card, and yes, I will probably continue to do so completely shamelessly for the duration of this fic.
> 
> On the plus side, this is the longest chapter I've written so far, I think, so maybe that kinda sorta makes up for it?

With hindsight, she probably could've timed things better – pitching up unannounced in the middle of some important negotiations wasn't her most inspired idea.

But Katara thinks it might just have been okay if the Earth Kingdom delegate representing King Kuei weren't such a monumental elbow-leech.

'If we're all done with the frivolity then do you think we might continue with our meeting, Lord Zuko?' His hollow smile alights on Katara as the group approaches the entrance to the meeting room. 'I see another of your friends has arrived.'

She steps forward into a bow which, she notes, he makes only a cursory effort to return.

'Katara of the-'

'_Master_ Katara.'

Sokka corrects her with a deliberately unsubtle stage-whisper, and the exasperated look that she shoots him over her shoulder is met with an exaggeratedly innocent grin and a flapping gesture to continue with her introduction. She rolls her eyes before turning back to the Earth Kingdom representative.

'-of the Southern Water Tribe.'

'Quite. And should I assume that you're joining us for the colony discussions? It seems everyone else already has.'

A muscle twitches in Zuko's jaw as he cuts in.

'You'll recall me explaining the presence of each member of my party at the start of the day, delegate Jun.'

Jun inclines his head.

'Of course, Lord Zuko.'

'Besides,' Aang interjects, 'we didn't seem to make much headway this morning – perhaps a fresh perspective could be valuable.'

For a moment, it looks as though Jun might refuse, his smile almost disconcertingly fixed as he stands in the doorway before them. Then he steps sideways, and gestures for the group to file into the meeting room.

'A marvellous thought, Avatar Aang.'

Katara catches Suki's eye as they sit, and the older girl meets her raised eyebrows with a despairing shake of the head. Their unspoken conversation is cut short by Jun, the polite interest on his face far too carefully arranged to be genuine.

'Well?'

He directs an unwavering stare at Katara, and she hesitates, caught off-guard. Jun sighs, a long-suffering grimace spreading across his face as he clarifies.

'It was suggested by the Avatar that you might be able to offer some insight as to how the debate surrounding the treatment of the colonies should be settled.'

'Oh, so you just want me to- I mean, it's difficult to comment without having been here for the morning's negotiations...'

Sokka has always had a talent for being passive aggressive. She knows that. But she also knows that he takes his role as ambassador seriously, so the poorly-concealed edge in his voice speaks volumes as to how badly things must have been going so far.

'I wouldn't exactly call them 'negotiations', Katara. More like Zuko trying to offer options and our _esteemed_ Earth Kingdom rep shooting them all down.'

'My orders from King Kuei were clear – Yu Dao is to be returned to the Earth Kingdom in its entirety. No concessions.'

Something about the finality of Jun's statement prods at her ribs.

'Really? No compromise at all?' She frowns, a troubling thought coming to her. 'Has he seen it?'

'What?'

'King Kuei. Has he actually visited Yu Dao since it came back under contested rule?'

Jun's smile tightens.

'I think you'll find that its rule has been contested ever since the Fire Nation invaded, Master Katara.' He somehow manages to make the title sound like an insult. 'But I assume you mean since the war ended and the _rightful_ return of Earth Kingdom land began. As it happens, His Majesty has been unable to pay visit to Yu Dao itself, although he toured a number of the other colonies in preparation for their dissolution immediately following Lord Zuko's coronation.'

A moment of silence passes.

'So... he hasn't seen it.'

Toph's deadpan only seems to have gotten drier over the last three years and, in spite of the niggling feeling that something isn't quite making sense, Katara holds back a snort of laughter at the annoyance that flickers across Jun's face.

'That is what I said, yes.'

She leans forwards, crossed arms resting on the table top, and studies the Earth Kingdom man as she speaks.

'Yet he feels confident making such a definitive ruling?'

'He entrusts his representatives with providing him the information he requires to make decisions that are in the best interests of the Earth Kingdom. Unfortunately for you, His Majesty is resolute concerning the management of the colonies. But please, I'm certain that your perspective on the matter will be illuminating.'

It's abundantly clear that he expects her opinion to be anything _but_, and the thinly-veiled derision is enough to tip Katara from nonplussed and probing into full, deliberate obstinacy.

She'll show him _resolute_.

'Right. Well, this is my first time visiting Yu Dao, but I've been in contact with the Master of Healing here for a couple of months now – from what he's said it sounds as though industry in this city really benefits from the combination of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom cultures.'

'We have already discussed the matter of industry in the city-'

She ploughs through Jun's words, speaking loudly over him in a way that she knows – she _knows_ – is entirely unprofessional, but that she can't quite bring herself to feel bad about.

'Because when Yu Dao was first colonised it was barely even a town, right? It was just a collection of shops and houses that sprung up to accommodate the mineworkers. Now it's one of the richest cities in the world, it's a leading power in metalwork and engineering, and that's basically all down to this unique collaboration, isn't it? It's probably the reason Sozin wanted to colonise the area in the first place.'

'Am I to believe that you're trying to validate the invasion of Earth Kingdom land-'

'Of course not. Sozin took a lot of things that he had no right or permission to take. I would never want to justify that. But refusing to take into account the way the city has evolved since then does a disservice to its people. They've made something great out of something terrible. Does King Kuei really want to undo all that?'

'What he _wants_ is to return the land to the Earth Kingdom citizens who reside in Yu Dao. Those who actually have claim to it.'

Before she can respond, Zuko's voice swoops in from behind her, collected, measured, and _gods damn it_ this is not the right time to be noticing how it's that bit deeper than it used to be, how the muscles in her back tense against the shiver that wants to run through her at how authoritative he sounds.

'It's been a hundred and thirty years. By this point there isn't anyone left in the city who came in with the original invasion – everyone living here must have been born here.'

'I don't see what difference that makes. There are still Fire Nation citizens occupying Earth Kingdom land.'

But Katara understands what Zuko's trying to say, and she latches onto the point with feeling.

'It makes a huge difference. They're not Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom anymore.'

Jun's face breaks into an outraged snarl, and she notices the way Aang flinches out of the corner of her eye. Okay, too extreme. She backtracks.

'No, I mean, that's not true, you can still see their different ancestries all through the city and it's clear that they're proud of that. Nothing's going to change their roots, but...'

She tails off, searching for the words that she needs to voice what she saw on her way through the city. Zuko finds them before she does, and a smile curves at her mouth even as she keeps her eyes trained forwards on Jun.

'But they're from_ here_.'

'Exactly – they're Yu Daoans now, and that means something completely new. I don't think any of us can really understand what it feels like.'

Jun hisses out a laugh.

'And you believe you can come to that conclusion from just second-hand accounts and twenty minutes spent walking through the city?'

Katara pauses, chin resting on the knuckles of her fist as she studies Jun from across the table before nodding in concession.

'Okay, I take your point. You think I'm ill-positioned to make these kinds of judgements without having spent any real time here myself?'

'I would think that was obvious.'

Triumph flashes through her.

'Well, with no disrespect meant, I would say the same of King Kuei.'

A slight twitch of the man's face is the only thing that lets her know that she's getting under his skin, that he didn't see the trap coming.

_Good._

But then he smiles, and the feeling of victory fades.

'His Majesty has consultants who are placed to offer valid, informed advice regarding the best management of the city based on up-to-date facts and figures. You are in no such position. For example, in your rose-tinted view you seem to have skimmed over the fact that crime rates here are higher than any other similar settlement in the world.'

He sits back, surveying her smugly, and a frown creases at Katara's forehead.

'Wait, sorry, I don't understand – have you been seeing a lot of aggression between Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation residents?'

Before the representative can respond, Zuko is speaking again.

'No. Barely any at all, actually.'

This time, Katara turns towards the top end of the table where he sits, and she watches him as he stares the other man down. There's a calculating kind of energy in his face, like he's found a crack in his opponent's armour and he's about to figure out how much pressure it can take.

'Before the end of the war, crime rates in Yu Dao were comparable to everywhere else,' he states. 'The increase in the last three years has been a result of a rise in organised crime with the lack of consistent governance in the colonies, and that's been perpetrated by syndicates made up of both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation citizens. The rates of misconduct within the general population are actually on the low end of normal for a city of this size and wealth.'

As Zuko speaks, Jun's face sours into something more and more pinched underneath the thin veneer of composure that still holds his features. Katara can practically hear the cogs turning in the man's head in the few short seconds it takes for him to respond.

'Are you trying to say that the issue of crime in the city is somehow insignificant, Lord Zuko?'

'Not in the slightest, delegate Jun. I'm merely clarifying that, in this case, it's not a matter pertaining to population demographics or the presence of Fire Nation citizens in Yu Dao. We really should make sure we're staying focussed on the matter at hand and not misrepresenting our _facts and figures_.'

Katara has to bite back a smile at the heat that comes into Zuko's voice, singeing its way through his civil words until she can almost hear the riled teenager that he used to be coming through.

But now is hardly the moment for reminiscing.

With Zuko's words, something has started to flicker in her head – an exposed, guttering flame of an idea that she's sure will prove to be frustratingly divisive but that she knows, with a sudden and complete clarity, is the right way to go.

She speaks slowly, giving herself time to let the kindling catch.

'So if I've understood all of that correctly, the people of Yu Dao have achieved remarkable things whilst under first corrupt and then all but absent leadership.'

The thought burns a little brighter and she cups her hands around it, shielding it from any breath of wind that might try to snuff it out. The flame starts to grow, and she feels her voice becoming stronger with it.

'Imagine what they could do if we gave them leaders that actually represented the people of the city.'

She can feel more than see Zuko's eyes on her. Then he speaks into the silence that has settled from her statement, and does what firebenders do best.

He brings the spark to life –

'A council made up of both Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation delegates.'

– and sends it catching, spreading through the room as the others add their voices to the mix, their fuel to the fire.

First Toph.

'Man, that'd be ground-breaking as hell.'

Then Suki.

'A city that isn't ruled by a single nation?'

Sokka.

'A combined government.'

Aang.

'It would be like a representation of all the collaboration and growth we've been trying to build since the war ended. It's perfect.'

Katara can see the glow in Zuko's eyes as his gaze skims around the table, his lips quirking when he pauses momentarily over her before fixing back on Jun.

'It is. It's exactly what the people need – two nations working together. A partnership.'

* * *

Jun's mouth curls back into a smirk, the cold, predatory gleam of a rat viper lighting in his eyes. But then, Zuko thinks, at least snakes are honest about what they are. This man is something altogether more underhanded, and the excitement that had been welling up in him starts to ebb away as he waits to hear what baseless argument is going to be put in front of them next.

'So now you're suggesting that your own nation should have governance over Earth Kingdom land? Well, I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything else from a Fire Nation royal. You're just like your father, aren't you?'

The words are met with instant outcry from the others around the table.

Aang's shout of 'hey, hold on a second!' is almost drowned out by a loud clatter as Sokka surges to his feet, fists clenched at his sides, chair skidding back from under him with the force of the movement. Suki reaches up to rest a placating hand at the crook of his elbow, but her head stays turned towards the Earth Kingdom delegate, her shoulders suddenly tensed.

Jun's own seat shakes, hard, the tiles beneath him shuddering forcefully with the angry twist of Toph's face, the tautening of her jaw.

But Zuko's voice stays calm as he raises it over the clamour.

'Toph, calm down. It's okay.'

At his words, Katara twists to look around at him, fury etched into her features, and her tone borders on incredulous as she cuts in.

'_What_? No. No, it's definitely _not_ okay. It's-'

Something in his face stops her, stops all of them, and they quiet as Zuko leans back in his seat, surveying Jun with a new sense of satisfaction.

Because now the delegate has broken free of the formal pretence that, up until now, he's been using as a smokescreen; now he's taken the leap from undermining Zuko's ideas and policies to making personal slights.

Which means he's slipping.

The snake has shown its fangs.

Several long seconds pass as Zuko stares him down, and something akin to discomfort flashes in the other man's eyes despite the stubborn lift of his brow.

Then Zuko speaks, and his voice holds light and steady, almost conversational, almost _amused_.

'I'm not like my father. But then, you don't actually think I am, right? If you did, you never would've dared to say it to my face.'

'Preach it, Sparky,' Toph mutters, her face still like thunder even as she settles back in her chair, bare feet swinging up to perch on the edge of the table. He doesn't bother nudging her to take them down.

'So I'm afraid I can't offer you the reaction I assume you were hoping for when you made that comparison. But I would urge you to stick to the matter at hand, delegate Jun. Making unwarranted comments about my lineage isn't particularly diplomatic, would you agree?'

A muscle jumps in Jun's jaw, flickering by his ear, then a tight smile spills like a bad smell across his face, and his voice is smooth, unctuous once more.

'Of course, Lord Zuko. Please forgive me. It is a sensitive topic that we're discussing and I rather lost myself for a moment. Unfortunately I could not possibly return to King Kuei with your proposal-'

'Which makes zero sense,' Sokka interrupts. 'He was always open to discussing ideas before, so what's changed now?'

Suki comes in quick on his heels.

'We all worked closely with King Kuei during the war – he was an ally to the Avatar, the Kyoshi warriors served to protect him–'

'And in doing so allowed Fire Nation spies to enter the palace and take His Majesty hostage, yes. A truly marvellous show of security which I'm sure he remembers with fondness.'

Suki bristles, and Zuko can feel the tension in the room rising as the debate flies back and forth across the table.

'Actually, I think you'll find that it was the Earth King's own forces which welcomed Azula into the palace. The Kyoshi stationing in Ba Sing Se was still pending at the time of the infiltration.'

'So you failed to even reach your assigned posting before being captured. I don't see how that's any better. But then, I suppose that's what happens when you entrust the safety of your head of state in a group of schoolgirls.'

Aang's eyes widen, his cheeks puffing as he lets out a heavy gust of air at the insult, and Zuko catches a snort from his right as Toph sniggers darkly under her breath. He braces himself as he turns towards Suki and Sokka, getting only a brief moment to wonder which of them is going to react worse before the former rises slowly from her seat.

'Call us schoolgirls again and I'll be more than happy to demonstrate how wrong you are.'

Her voice is low and lethal in way that he's never heard from her before, and Zuko groans internally at the positively _thrilled_ expression that slides across Jun's face.

'My, my, you're not threatening me, are you? That's, ah... How did you put it?' His eyes slide back to Zuko. '_Not particularly diplomatic_.'

'Okay, what exactly is your deal, man?'

Sokka's tone is just as cutting and irreverent as his words, and Jun turns a cool stare onto him, that gleeful light still bright in his eyes.

'My deal?'

'Yeah, we've put forward an idea that could be really good for the city – hell, it could be really good for the _world_ – and you won't even take it to King Kuei because apparently working alongside the Fire Nation is worse than breaking down the city's whole infrastructure to keep it under Earth Kingdom rule. What the hell kind of intel has he been getting that's made him this unwilling to even think about other options? It's totally ridiculous!'

Toph shifts in her seat next to Zuko, bringing her feet down off the table to press flat against the marble floor of the meeting room.

'Lord Zuko, I would ask that you control the members of your par-'

'Actually, I have to second Sokka's opinion, delegate, along with what was said earlier – King Kuei has always been an ally, as well as a personal friend to most of the people in this room, and he's never been this closed off to discussion regarding post-war efforts before. Which really begs the question: why is he now so reluctant to engage in any form of negotiation or compromise around the matter? Something about that doesn't add up.'

'Unless, for some reason, the information he's been receiving has been less than accurate on purpose.'

The room goes silent, every eye swinging to the earthbender who sits slouched casually in her seat, bare feet still planted on the floor. She grins into the bemused silence, then leans an elbow on the table and gestures almost offhandedly in Jun's direction.

'You know, you're pretty good at this. This whole time, you've been messing with us, keeping the subject moving, throwing out these meaningless statements over and over about how _King Kuei will not negotiate_ yada yada yada. You've been making it damn near impossible to pin you down.'

The gesture becomes a point, deliberate and targeted, trained unforgivingly at Jun.

'But the thing that your ol' ticker did just then when Snoozles started putting the heat on? I've felt that kind of _oh shit_ stutter before. Because apparently His Majesty of Mud has learned fuck all from his last hiring disaster. I mean, fool him once, shame on you, right, but _seriously_? It's like Long Feng the Sequel over here – that naive nerd couldn't spot a good advisor if it kicked him where the badgermoles don't dig, if you catch my drift-'

'Toph,' Zuko interrupts. 'Your point, maybe?'

She rolls her eyes before leaning forwards in her chair, elbows against her knees, pressing her weight down into her heels.

'You've been feeding the King false information about the city, haven't you? So everything you've been saying about his orders has technically been true, but the orders themselves were based on bogus intel.'

The room is still, painfully so. The only thing that seems to be moving is Jun's gaze as it skims sharply from one person to the next, gauging his next move.

Zuko stands from his seat, fingertips splayed against the surface of the table, and trains a stare on the Earth Kingdom man that makes it clear there'll be no twisting his way out of the coming question.

'Delegate Jun, does King Kuei have any idea what's really going on in Yu Dao?'

Jun stares back, unflinching, and for the first time Zuko is able to see the true depth of the venom in the other man's eyes as he spits out his answer.

'Of course he does, my lord.'

Silence for a second. Two. Then Toph delivers her verdict.

'Liar.'

* * *

Jun doesn't fight. He doesn't jump out of his seat, doesn't try to run, doesn't try to talk his way out. He knows he's lost.

What he does do is hold Zuko under a cold, penetrating focus as the gang moves swiftly into action around him, as his hands are bound and they discuss what should be done next.

It makes Katara feel unsettled, much more so than the mocking gleam that had brightened the delegate's eyes just minutes before. Now, any trace of pretence has evaporated – the man beneath the mask has been revealed, and he detests Zuko to his core.

'-and take him to Ba Sing Se on Appa. Whilst I'm there, I'll talk with Kuei and see if he'll come back with me to have a look at this place for himself.'

Katara's pulled back to the conversation by Aang's voice as he and Zuko patch together a plan.

'Great. I'll draft a couple of proposals for how the coalition could work and get a proper tour of the city sorted out. Hopefully he'll understand what we're saying once he's seen what things are really like here.'

Aang's eyes flick to Suki – she's positioned herself next to Jun's seat with all the vigilance of a prison guard, and the airbender grins at her as she pulls their detainee none too gently to his feet.

'Wanna come with? It'd probably help to have someone from the Earth Kingdom along to talk to Kuei.'

Suki's eyebrow arches.

'Try and stop me. I'm looking forward to seeing this guy get what's coming to him.'

Toph snorts as she lounges back in her chair, her feet kicked up on the table once more now that they've served their purpose.

'Vindictive. You've been spending way too much time with Snoozles.'

A smile threatens at the edges of Katara's mouth, but then her eyes land back on Jun – his stony gaze hasn't shifted from Zuko, and a chill runs down the back of her neck. She watches as Aang and Suki march him out of the room, then jumps as Sokka's voice sounds from behind her.

'Is it bad that I kind of hope he just, like, falls off Appa as they're heading over the Serpent's Pass?'

'I don't know, I reckon he'd feel pretty at home there,' Zuko mutters in response.

Sokka sniggers, slapping Zuko on the shoulder as he makes his way through to the atrium, Toph hauling herself up out of her chair after him. Katara makes to follow, thoughts still circling around the image of Jun's face that seems to be branded into her head, the depth of the hatred in him so profound and unnerving that she can't seem to let it go.

She reaches the door at the same time as Zuko, almost walking right into him before pulling to an abrupt stop at the last second. He startles, coming back to the present in the same way she's just done, and she wonders if the same things are preoccupying his mind as hers.

'Oh, I-'

'Sorry, you go-'

'No, it's-'

'You-'

She cuts off with a stunted laugh, her arms crossing over her chest in front of her. The understanding that had run fluid between them during the meeting has clotted, and it shouldn't surprise her, how much it stings, but somehow it does – somehow, despite _knowing_ she had no clue what she might say to him when they saw each other again, she hadn't prepared herself for how it would feel to actually be standing in front of him _with nothing to say_.

'That was good. You were-' He clears his throat, and the rasp of it is loud in the sudden thickness of the air. 'Thanks for coming along. Early, I mean.'

'Oh, sure, no problem. You too.' She winces, rambles. 'That is, not thanks for coming. You've been here the whole- I mean, this was your- I just meant... Yeah, that was good.'

The muscles of his face twitch in something that almost borders on a smile, hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck in a way that she recognises all too well from before as something he does when he's feeling uncomfortable.

The silence is abrasively palpable.

'Hey, you two – quit being awkward already so we can go get lunch!'

Katara cringes at Sokka's words, eyes closing and lips pressing tight together as if flinching away from a physical blow.

When she forces her eyes open again, the colour is high in Zuko's face – his hand has drifted down from the nape of his neck to hover unthinkingly over his chest, and he avoids her gaze as he gestures stiffly with his other hand for her to walk through to the atrium ahead of him.

She mutters a thank you, turning away from him and moving briskly out of the meeting room towards the front door where Sokka and Toph are waiting. Shooting a glare at her brother, she ignores the amused raise of his eyebrow and pushes past him to step out into the afternoon sun, releasing a rush of breath as the fresh air hits her.

_You too._

Idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My boy is growing up so fast. Didn't even flinch at being compared to Ozai 'cause now he's got some of that self-assured shit going on. Just, you know, not enough to not be awkward as all hell when he's faced with a gal he kinda likes - awkward Zuko is the best Zuko.
> 
> And I know it sounds like a line, but reviews honestly give me that boost to write more and also kind of remind me of exactly how long it's been since I last posted (doesn't time just fly sometimes without you even realising it??), so please do let me know what you think!


	14. Restoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello! I know I said before that I was probably going to keep using work as an excuse for slow updates, and unfortunately right now that rings truer than ever - shit's kinda nuts at the moment, y'all. What weird times we're all living in. BUT as an apology (partly by accident) this chapter is basically twice as long as usual, and I think you're probably gonna like what's coming in it.
> 
> *Time for our guys to finally sit down and have a wee chat wooooooh*
> 
> *Under the influence of alcohol woooooohh*
> 
> *With Toph being a shit-stirring, sarcastic teenager WOOOOOH*

It's strange, being _back_ – somehow familiar and alien all at once, a life lifted out of the stasis imagined by distance only to discover that it's been going on without her this whole time.

Then again, that feels like a vaguely overdramatic way of framing it. And perhaps she's not giving herself quite enough credit; it's not as if Katara expected everything to be just the way it was before. It's not as if it's a revelation that everyone else has kept on growing and changing in her absence, that the rest of the world didn't stop turning just because she stepped back for a while. She's been reading their letters, meandering through their stories, listening from afar as their voices have evolved and developed... None of this has come as a surprise at all, really.

An old fleece, then. That feels more accurate. Something found tucked away in a corner and pulled out, pulled back on, not in any way outgrown but just _different_ in the way that it fits now, novel for the time away despite its inherent familiarity. She's still getting used to the way it sits on her, the feel of it against her skin, the old scents ingrained in the fabric that have been overlaid by three years' worth of experiences and encounters.

It's a beguiling combination of renaissance and reconnaissance, seeing afresh whilst simultaneously seeing for the first time.

Throughout the afternoon, as everything's settling into its new rhythm, Katara keeps phasing between Then and Now. At any given moment she'll find herself back in a campfire-lit clearing under the stars, or the abandoned beach house of a looming dictator, before being sucked into the present again by something jarringly new demanding to be assimilated.

'You're cook-... Sokka, you're _cooking_?'

'Oh, loving the tone of surprise. Very supportive. Not.'

She splutters.

'I mean, can you blame me?'

Sokka smirks at her from his place in front of the stove, idly browning chunks of dark meat in a pan already sizzling with ginger and garlic.

'When did this happen? You didn't do any cooking whilst we were back home.'

'It was after you'd left.' He cocks his head, eyes fixed on the contents of the pan. 'Probably _because_ you'd left, really. That, and Suki made the _very_ persuasive point that if I knew how to cook then I could eat whatever and whenever I wanted.' He jerks an elbow at her. 'Come help.'

'I don't know, isn't it my turn to sit and watch whilst you do everything yourself?'

He shoots her a good-natured grimace even as she moves into the kitchen and starts kneading at the dumpling dough that Sokka's left sitting to the side. They work next to each other, and as she watches her brother's hands move easily across the countertop, Katara feels a perplexing sense of anxiety sweep over her.

The thing is, she always used to be pretty clear on what her place in the group was. As frightening and twisted as everything had become in that year, she'd always been sure of what part she had to play in this little pocket of people. And yes, perhaps it was more than a bit maternal, and perhaps she's wondering if that role exists anymore now that the others are older, or if she even _wants _it anymore now that _she's_ older, or what other part she could possibly play if not the one that she held so unquestionably before and-

'You're doing it again, aren't you? The overthinking thing.'

Katara is lifted out of her deliberation to find the dough overworked and tough beneath her fingers. Sokka is watching her knowingly, his brow raised in an almost smug way that grates at her just as much as it always has, maturity be damned.

She huffs, short and frustrated – whether at the thoughts flying around her head, or being called out on them, she's not sure.

Probably both.

'No.' Then, before Sokka has the chance to get any more superior, 'Yes, fine, yes.'

'Katara-'

'I know, I know. _You don't owe anything to anyone_. I remember the lecture.'

'As you should, it was a very good one.'

'No need to be so modest.'

'What can I say, it's a virtue.'

The room falls quiet for a moment, and Katara fixes her eyes on the water that's roiling on the stovetop. Her fingers keep kneading mindlessly at the now inedible dough, pulling it into thin, fraying strands before weaving them back together again as she draws breath to speak.

'I'm trying.'

Sokka nods, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that reminds her of their father. He flicks a twist of herbs into his pan.

'I know. Can you add that water to this?'

A fragrant hiss of steam fills the room as the ingredients all come together into one bubbling, swirling fusion of spice and aromatics and umami. The stew laps at the inside of the pan as Sokka stirs, and Katara's eyes follow its movement.

Water takes the shape of the vessel that holds it. It adjusts to fit. It's taken too long for her to understand that she need not be quite so fluid, that she can hold her own form without agonising over whether or not she fits the spaces that other people need her to fill.

It's a work in progress.

So when she finds herself chastising Toph and Sokka the next day –

'You cannot just turn the gardens of the assembly halls into your own personal mud pit! It's completely disrespectful. We're here trying to build a relationship with this city and you're putting that at risk by destroying-...'

– and when Toph crows irreverently in response –

'I _knew_ it wouldn't take long. Man, Sugar Queen, I've missed getting lectures from you.'

– and when Katara feels that churning frustration rising in her that she remembers from when they were younger, when it sends her marching tetchily away from Toph's laughter –

'Funny, because I haven't missed you guys acting like bratty children at all!'

– she doesn't worry that she's not changed enough, or that she's changed too much, or wonder if she's taking on her role in the group properly.

She does stomp into her room and throw the door closed in an entirely juvenile manner. She does spend more time than she's willing to acknowledge grumbling to herself under her breath as she spins droplets of water between her fingers.

And then she sinks into the feeling of being back with these people who know just how to get under her skin and pull her out of her own head.

And then – _maybe_ – she smiles.

* * *

The party is Kuei's idea, a wholly unnecessary and probably ill-judged attempt at thanking them for their exposure of Liu Jun's duplicity.

It takes Aang and Suki two days to return to Yu Dao with the Earth King in tow, and he's already falling over himself apologising even before they all steer him around the city, showing him glimpses of the lives that wind through its streets. They stop to talk to vendors at their stalls, metalworkers on their way to the factories, parents and children, restaurant owners and innkeepers. Two elderly women bearing both red and green tokens drop into low bows in front of Kuei and Zuko, effusing over the novelty of seeing the nations' leaders visiting the city together.

And it's not all good – there are those who stare with open distaste at the group as they move through the city centre, menacing men and women whose wiry frames melt into the shadows as they pass – but Katara's almost glad for that. This was the whole point of Kuei's visit, after all, for him to see the city for what it really is rather than the stories that he's been fed until now. A rose-tinted view is the last thing he needs.

The sun is sinking low in the sky by the time they finish their tour and end up back at the assembly halls, and Kuei's face is weary and rueful, shoulders slumped as he turns back towards Zuko at the top of the front steps.

'I must say, I'm mortified. I can't believe I let this happen a second time. After the debacle with Long Feng... And it's you guys who have had to cover my error of judgement again...' He sighs despondently. 'I don't know what to say. How can I make this up to you?'

Toph lets out a bark of humourless laughter.

'Well, first off you could agree to discuss the proposal that Zuko's putting forward.'

Kuei's expression morphs into surprise.

'But of course. Honestly, from what I've seen today it looks like you're completely right about what this city needs – the people certainly seem far too integrated for any kind of separation to be appropriate, and it's obvious that business here relies on the combination of Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation influence. I'll clear my schedule for the next week and we'll talk through the details, but I really think you're onto something, here.'

He directs a confirmatory glance at Zuko, who nods in response, then continues speaking as his gaze sweeps back across the rest of the group.

'We'll get a plan in place for Yu Dao and consider adapting that for some of the other assimilated colonies, and Jun's currently being held for questioning as to his part in all this. But those are all things that I'd be doing anyway – I actually thought that perhaps there might be some way I could make things up to you guys personally.'

A moment of bemused silence passes as Kuei stares expectantly at them, clearly waiting for some kind of suggestion. When none comes, he deflates slightly, before almost immediately brightening as a thought seems to hit him.

'I know! We can-'

Which is how Katara finds herself sitting by the wall in Kuei's event space of choice, letting the small-talk of thirty-odd party guests wash over her as she nurses a cup of uisuki – a truly lethal creation born from the combined expertise of the city's Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom distillers.

It's no blessing, the alcohol, as much as it might have seemed it initially. It burns going down, abrasive against the back of her throat and hot in her stomach, and as much as she'd hoped it would dull her senses, it just... doesn't. Which is really, really inconvenient because-

Well, because _he's_ here, isn't he?

For the last couple of days, Zuko's been almost completely absent, poring over notes and drafting plans in anticipation of Kuei's arrival. And frankly, as bad as it sounds, that has suited Katara fine.

Things had been easy when they were just writing to each other. Or rather, easi_er_. Once she'd gotten past her low point – past that chest-stuttering anxiety that had filled her every time she thought about the part of her life that he'd inhabited – they'd managed to settle back into something comfortable, pleasant. An uncomplicated back-and-forth between two old friends who'd reconnected after a bit of a blip.

Which isn't to say that they were just-... that she didn't-... that the things she'd felt before had just disappeared. They'd still rested in the hollow of her throat, hard-edged and thorny, whenever she sat down to write her next letter to him, but at least whilst they'd been apart everything had soothed somewhat from the unrelenting, suffocating pull that had been there before. Over time and distance, it had calmed into something more theoretical, less aggressively _present _– a persistent but tolerable sense of something important being far enough out of reach that it wasn't even an option, not worth fixating on.

Now, though, he's here. He's _right here_, mere feet away from her, something real and tangible and breathing, closer than he has been in years and... It's like she doesn't know how to be around him anymore. She doesn't know how to talk to him outside of conversations made of paper and ink.

So, yes, part of her had thought that perhaps using Yu Dao's signature sedative to numb herself a little might help. What a fucking miscalculation.

Somehow, even as she can feel her thoughts turning hazy in her head, she's only becoming more and more sharply aware of everything he's doing. It's as if the liquor has given her mind free rein to go to all the places she's been refusing it, and now it is abusing that privilege in full force. No matter where she directs her attention, he's there, lingering at the peripheries of her thoughts.

Her chest feels resonant and fragile, the points where her pulse pounds in her temples all hollowed out so that her whole body echoes with the sound of it. There is too much space in her, and Katara has the distinct feeling that if she's not careful then she's going to try and fill it with something inadvisable; the sound of his voice, the pressure of his gaze, the warmth that he emanates when he's standing close-

Gods, shut up. Shut _up_.

'You look like you're thinking hard.'

Of course.

Because spirits forbid that she should be able to have a nice, quiet breakdown at the edge of a party without the very focus of her breakdown _noticing_ that she's having a breakdown.

She tilts her head up to eye Zuko as he stands over her. He's taken advantage of the informality of the evening, opting for a slightly looser take on traditional Fire Nation dress than the official robes that he's been in so far. Her gaze sweeps quickly over him, pointedly ignoring all the spots where she might be inclined to linger, before landing back on a point somewhere in the air around his face.

'Yeah, probably too much. But I can assure you, I'm working on fixing that.'

His mouth crooks, and he meets the gesture she makes towards her cup with one of his own.

'Huh, wonder what my excuse is.'

And, despite herself, she laughs.

'You're the Fire Lord. I imagine any opportunity for stress relief is something you should take.'

'Perhaps. Mind if I sit here?'

Does he see it, the ridiculous, eager spike of alarm that flashes through her at the thought of trying to hold an honest-to-gods conversation with him? Avoidance has been the only thing keeping her above water so far, the awkwardness of their reunion still weighing heavy on her, and now he's asking-

'Sure. I mean, this is practically your city, I don't think you need to ask permission.'

Well, fine.

Zuko shoots her a funny look, his brow arching as he sinks to a sit in the chair next to her.

'Uh, thanks.'

A coarse, painful silence falls between them, and Katara stares resolutely forwards across the rest of the party, casting wildly about as though she might be able to pluck a conversation topic right out of the chatter that fills the room. Gods, she _hates_ this. Since when has talking to him ever been this arduous?

'So-'

'I-'

They cut off simultaneously with identical laughs of discomfort. She chances a fleeting glance in Zuko's direction, just long enough to take in the grimace that tightens the edges of his mouth before turning quickly away again, and her voice comes rough past the knot in her throat that won't seem to clear.

'We, um... we seem to be doing that a lot.'

'Yeah.'

Silence again.

There's an awkward kind of energy running through her, the muscles in her legs tense and jumpy. Katara tugs the braided loops of her hair over her shoulder, twisting them restlessly between her fingers in an attempt to dispel it.

'What's that?'

'What?'

Zuko is frowning at a point south of her ear, at the stretch of skin on her neck that's just been newly bared to him. His hand is suspended in the space between them as if he's caught himself reaching out towards her.

'Oh.' Katara's own fingers find the uneven, raised strip of scar that adorns the curve where her neck runs into her shoulder. She pauses momentarily as the start of a smile works its way onto her lips. 'Funny you should ask, actually.'

The words are met with an inquisitive narrowing of Zuko's eyes, and Katara feels herself relax a little into her chair, the smile catching on her face as she clarifies.

'It was a while ago now, whilst I was travelling through the Earth Kingdom. I stopped for a couple of nights at this little farming village in the foothills around Omashu, stayed with one of the elderly healers at the hospital there, helped out with patients during the day... On the second day, the mother of one of the girls who works there appeared at the door looking for some help with one of their family's ostrich horses. Said there'd been some kind of accident with the plough and-.'

A sudden, loud exclamation from across the room jerks their attention away from the story, each of them turning sharply towards the sound before loosening again when no threat makes itself known. Zuko's eyes come back to her as she goes on, his stare gilded by the light of the lanterns that hang around the room.

'Anyway, I said I'd go along with them and help out. And we got there, and this girl's dad was all over the place trying to keep the ostrich horse under control, but its leg was all twisted and torn up and it was obviously panicked so he wasn't really managing and- You know, this isn't really the important part. Long story short, we managed to get the ostrich horse calmed and healed, but it got a good bite in at me first. Something about the shape of their beaks just means that the scars don't heal up very nicely.'

Katara's fingers go back to playing across the pale zigzag of skin, and she watches from the corner of her eye as Zuko's attention dips to that spot on her neck.

'Why was it funny that I asked?'

The smile tugs again at the corners of her mouth, and Katara does her best, she fears unsuccessfully, to bite it back.

'Once we were done, the family thanked me for my help and explained that their ostrich horses were really valuable to them, more so than just your usual livestock. Said that a few years back they'd only had one, and then one night it was stolen by this boy who had taken refuge with them for a short while during the war. A boy with a scar over his eye. Sounded familiar.'

She angles her head towards Zuko, watching as the colour rises in his face, a muscle twitching slightly in his jaw.

'And then – and this was the bit that I thought was interesting – a year or so later, not too long after the war ended, three ostrich horses just appeared on their farm one day. Out of nowhere, as if they'd just been dropped there by some benevolent spirit. Funny how the universe finds a way to give back, isn't it?'

He's not meeting her eye anymore, instead focussing his gaze on the opposite wall of the room.

'Probably could've stood to give a bit more, really,' he mutters, and Katara feels the air around him turn heavy. She studies him for a few long seconds, momentarily relieved of the messiness in her mind by this new thread of thought.

'Hm.'

'What?'

'No, I-... Don't worry about it, it's-...'

She tries to dismiss it, she really does. A huge part of her is fervently protesting that they really aren't familiar enough with each other to have this kind of conversation anymore, but then something sweeping and compulsive takes over and she finds herself turning bodily towards him, the words blurting from her mouth before she's able to stop them.

'Okay, Zuko, when will you be done making amends? When do you think you're going to feel like you've apologised enough?' Zuko stiffens and twists to face her, a deep frown burrowing into his forehead. 'You've done so much already, and it's only been three years, you can't-'

'Only three years? Is that all?' All the breath seems to seep out of him as he slumps into his seat, sliding back in a somewhat undignified manner until he's staring at the dark slats of the ceiling. He takes a considerable draw of his uisuki that can't possibly feel good going down, and his face is suddenly lax with weariness. 'Feels like it's gone on and on.'

Something fractures around Katara as she looks at him, as her eyes probe at this man who's endlessly paying for debts that he can't see he no longer owes. She feels it crack, the wall that she's had up between herself and him, and the ease of its breaching – the delicacy with which it fissures – tells her everything she already knows as to how paltry a barrier it's been all along, just substantial enough to fog her vision and make things look more difficult than they ever needed to be. She exhales slow and deep, the rush of her breath enough to bring it down in its entirety, and lets her head tip back to sit on the backrest of her chair so that she's looking up at the ceiling alongside him.

The alcohol still swirls loosely in her mind, and it marries the soft glow of lantern-light against dark wood with the strangely faraway whispering of the rest of the party. Katara's almost reminded of a time when she and Zuko laid with the sounds of the sea washing over them, side-by-side under a different sky heavy with different expectations. Funny that she should find herself being taken back to a time when she was still just getting to know him.

'You're alone a lot, aren't you?'

She feels more than sees his answering shrug. He doesn't elaborate, and they sit in silence for a moment more before she breaks it again.

'I'm sorry.'

'You're sorry? Sorry for what?'

_Yes, Katara, sorry for what, exactly?_

Because honestly, she's not sure. The words just kind of slipped out and now she's having trouble catching up with what they meant, everything working more slowly than it usually does except, it seems, for her mouth.

Is she apologising for the way things are?

For bringing it up in the first place?

Or is she sorry that she hasn't been there for him, guilty that she put herself first, regretful that she allowed the space to grow between them until she lost sight of his reality?

'I just-'

She turns her head, lifts it just a little in his direction so that she can meet his eye. They stay like that for a few moments, and even though she still doesn't quite know how to talk to him, how to finish the thought that she's started to voice, Zuko somehow seems to understand. His mouth curves, the corners lifted in tentative offering, and she feels herself mirroring him, able to see him clearly for the first time since they parted.

* * *

His laugh still feels like a prize, that much hasn't changed at all – warm, breathy, almost surprised, as if he never quite expects anyone to make him smile. He laughs, and all of a sudden she's reminded of that spot in her that the sound always seemed to hit head-on before, somewhere deep and triumphant and kind of exhilarating.

'No way. You didn't.'

'I did! The whole thing went over, it was a complete mess. It took ages to get all the bits of cabbage out of my hair afterwards.'

They've shifted slowly closer over the last half hour or so, not resting back in their seats anymore but bowed forwards, tilted towards each other, sipping from cups that somehow keep getting refilled without Katara noticing as they swap stories from the in-between that never quite made it into their letters.

'Sounds like you had a good time travelling.'

'You know, I really did.' She pauses, flicks a glance up at him, then straightens in her chair and lets her eyes narrow in an exaggerated show of contemplation. 'It did kind of feel like it was missing something, though.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, you know, it just didn't feel right without having some brooding firebender moaning about how the universe is against him and he can't get anything right and-'

The laughter that's been bubbling underneath her words spills over as he rolls his eyes, cuffing her lightly on the shoulder before coming back to rest with his elbows braced against his knees. His face is relaxed, alight in a way that seems to defy the flickering shadows cast by the lanterns overhead.

'Low blow. I thought you were better than that.'

'Well, I don't know what to tell you, clearly you've overestimated me.'

'Or time's been very unkind to you.' Katara lets out a sharp gust of breath, eyes widening in mock scandal, and she breaks into another bout of laughter at the horrified look that sweeps across Zuko's face as his words register. 'I mean... I didn't mean it like that, I-... You're looking great- Not _great_, you're looking good, but not in a bad way, I-... Ugh, okay, I'm just going to stop now.'

She snorts, every fibre of her will going into holding back the flush that's threatening to paint her pleasure, her weaknesses, right there on her face. Sarcasm, as seems to be the way of things tonight, is her redemption.

'Good thinking. You're eloquent as ever, I see. Do you ramble like that when you're at court?'

Zuko groans defeatedly, a self-conscious smile tilting at his mouth as he shifts in his chair and rubs a hand across his forehead.

'Only when I'm nervous.'

When his arm drops back down to rest on his thigh again, the two of them have inched closer together, just enough that now the backs of his knuckles brush against her knee.

He doesn't pull back, so neither does she, instead swallowing a smile with a sip of uisuki that runs hot over her tongue and leaves a sudden burst of sincerity in its wake.

'Really though, I... I've missed this.' Their eyes meet. 'I've missed you.'

'Me too.'

A moment of quiet – thick and heartfelt but somehow still bordering on shy – passes between them. Then-

'So tell me more about Sokka destroying your palace. I've only ever heard his side and I have to assume he left out some major details.'

'Oh, definitely.'

It feels like hours are passing, the rest of the world moving around them as they sit in place at the periphery of the party and continue to empty themselves of the tales they've stored up during their years apart.

Somewhere along the way, the fingers that are brushing at her knee start to trace light, tentative circles over the thin fabric of her leggings. There's a warmth soaking through Katara's mind that she knows is only partly because of the liquor, so when it brings her to stall mid-sentence so that she can examine the planes of his face as if they're suddenly fascinatingly unfamiliar, she's sure that at least some of the blame lies with him.

'What is it?'

'Nothing, it's just... You just look kind of different. Maybe it's the long hair.'

'Oh. Well, it's traditional. I always think it makes me look kind of like my father, actually.'

She cocks her head to the side, taking in the looseness of his jaw, the lack of tension in his posture. His fingers don't waver, drawing persistent, slow patterns across her knee that she knows would send her head spinning if she afforded them any significant part of her attention.

_Focus, Katara._

'I can see the resemblance. But it's not something that bothers you, is it? Not anymore, at least. I saw the way you were when Jun said what he said – you didn't even flinch.'

Zuko dips his head in acknowledgement.

'Yeah. It took a while, but... I just got to the point where I realised that I can't help being his son, and there are always going to be people who try to compare me to him. All I can do is push to be the best leader I can be – make sure that the comparison is a positive one.'

'You know, confidence is a good look on you.'

Gods, is she _flirting_? And he-

'Thanks.'

He is looking entirely too amused for her liking, and she swipes half-heartedly at his arm which, really, only seems to make things worse. Hard back-pedal.

'Okay, hold on, I just _mean_\- Ugh, I just mean that you seem to be handling it well! All that regalia and authority, you know.' She stops, considers for a moment. 'Although, if I'm being totally honest, I think this version of you is my favourite.'

Zuko casts a glance down at himself, bemusement making its way across his face.

'What version is that?'

'I don't know, somewhere in between _Fire Lord_ and _repentant banished prince on the run_?'

He grins – not the wry smile that she's used to seeing on him, but a real, broad, teasing grin that knocks the breath right out of her.

'Oh, so _not_ the version where I'm relentlessly following you across the world and trying to imprison you and your loved ones?'

And La, she comes embarrassingly close – _pathetically_ close – to saying that she'd be more than okay with him following her across the world again now. But giving that kind of voice to the things that they've only been saying in undertones so far... That would just take them down a road that she's absolutely certain ends in nothing good. Far better to leave it unnamed. Superficial. Harmless.

So she swallows down her less prudent thoughts and blames them on the uisuki, instead keeping things light, playing into his joke.

'I mean, it's a tough one, but I think this-' She reaches out to prod him on the shoulder affectionately. '-_just_ wins it.'

He chuckles.

'Well-'

'Hey guys!'

Katara turns in her seat to find a whirl of green making its way towards them through the crowd of party guests, moving with a sense of gleeful purpose that feels distinctly ill-omened.

'Uh-oh.'

'Heard that. And you know what else I heard?'

Zuko leans in towards her until she can feel his breath on her neck as he speaks, his voice a low mutter in her ear.

'Why do I feel like this is going to end badly for one of us?'

'Experience. What did you hear, Toph?'

'I heard that you became quite the heartbreaker whilst you were away, Sweetness.'

Katara balks. Zuko's fingers still on her knee, and it's completely ridiculous that all of a sudden she can't even look at him but she _can't_, so instead she focusses on the grinning earthbender standing in front of her and does everything she can to stay composed.

'Right, first off, that is none of your business, and I am going to _kill_ Sokka because I can only assume that you heard it from him. And secondly, you're making it sound like a regular thing. It was one- It only happened- It was once!'

_Composure: check. Great work, Katara, you really nailed that one._

Spirits, why does she feel _guilty_?

'I'm missing something here, aren't I?'

Zuko's voice has changed, not in any way cold, but undeniably probing and just that bit stiffer than before.

'I-' Katara huffs in exasperation and shoots a cutting look at Toph that she hopes the other girl can feel right through her blindness. Then she takes a deep breath in and out before dropping her tone to something more deliberate, more measured. Factual. 'Whilst I was in the North Pole, there was this... guy. Kallik. One of the soldiers who returned after the end of the war. We got to know each other pretty well, I guess, and then a couple of months in he asked me to marry him. I said no, and that's it.'

Zuko's face is unreadable. The air itself feels tight around her, something that Toph is undoubtedly aware of but seemingly all too happy to ignore.

'Great story, Sugar Queen, nice detail. Come on, what was wrong with the guy?'

Katara lets out a heavy, yielding sigh. Her head is spinning with a combination of alcohol and discomfort, and she's nowhere near sharp enough to push back against the earthbender's grilling right now.

Besides, it's not as if she has anything to hide, right?

'Nothing. Nothing was wrong with him. He was... nice. Funny. Definitely not unattractive.' She shrugs. 'I liked spending time with him.'

'What happened?'

This time, the question doesn't come from Toph. Katara redirects her gaze back towards Zuko, struggling for a moment to find the words to answer him as her eyes skate over his face. His face which still isn't giving anything away.

'It just...' _Didn't feel the same._ '...didn't work out.'

'Ah. Guess that happens.'

There's something not particularly casual, or perhaps _too_ casual, about the way he says it, and with that the atmosphere seems to change, suddenly charged with a different kind of tension that feels simultaneously better and more dangerous than a few moments prior. She feels her heart rate pick up, feels the heady thrill of it sweep through her.

'I guess it does. You know what _I_ heard?' She places her empty cup on the windowsill next to her, and then leans in towards him. 'I heard that all the Fire Nation nobles have gotten themselves worked up into a state because their Lord-' In a rush of boldness, she takes Zuko's cup, still half-full, out of his hand, settling back in her chair to survey him. '-refuses to choose a Lady.'

Raising his cup to her lips, she keeps her eyes on him over its rim as she drinks. The burn barely even registers anymore, so heated is the very breath that rises up from her chest. Honestly, she's not really sure what's made her say it – whether she's just trying to take the attention off her own history, or whether it's something that she's been looking for an excuse to bring up since Kuei mentioned it to her earlier in the evening – but Zuko barely hesitates, taking it in stride without blinking.

'That's accurate.'

She releases a laugh in a sharp burst of air.

'Well, what do you know? Someone so driven by honour, shirking his royal duties.'

'Not shirking, exactly. I've gone along with all the introductions that the Fire Sages keep springing on me, been a picture of courtesy...' He plucks the cup back out of her grasp, eyes glinting, and raises it slightly as if toasting her. '...attended every miai they've arranged...'

The pause stretches on just a little too long, until something in her gives and she can't hold back from prompting him.

'But?'

He takes a long draw from the cup, then fixes her with a scorching smirk as he fires her own words back at her.

'It just hasn't worked out.'

And she's about to – about to what, call him out on the sheer _audacity_ of it? Then Kuei's voice reaches them from across the room. Katara twists away from Zuko towards the sound, and by the time she realises that he's being beckoned over, he's already on his feet behind her.

'Well, duty calls.'

She turns back to him to find the bartered cup of uisuki hovering in front of her face, held out towards her in something midway between an offering and a challenge. Their fingers brush as she takes it from him, narrowing her eyes at the hint of a smile that still plays on his lips, and then he's walking away, leaving her to stare, wordless, after him as he disappears into the party.

'What was _that_?'

She hadn't _forgotten_ that Toph was standing there, exactly, but the girl's gloating words still make her jump, sparking her back into regular speed.

'What?'

Toph snorts.

'That! You and Lord Sunshine over there making googly eyes at each other. I mean, I know I can't _see_ googly eyes, but I can sure as hell _hear_ them.'

Katara shakes her head, entrenching herself as deeply as she can in every shred of denial she's able to muster.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Liar. Gods, it's like being back before the war ended, just at, like, a whole new level of shameless.'

'You've been drinking. Your judgement's off.'

'Please, it'd take more than a few drinks for me to miss something that spit-in-your-face obvious.' She claps a hand on Katara's shoulder, a gesture that feels flippant and supportive in equal parts, before backing away towards the table of food that sits a few feet from them. 'Look, just do me a favour and get on with it. If I have to listen to much more of that I think I might hurl.'

And with that, Katara is left alone to try and unpick the last few minutes until they make some kind of sense.

She sits motionless for a moment, then gives her head a sharp shake, blows out a hard breath, and downs what's left of the uisuki in one.

Well, that was... something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have cackled to myself more than once whilst writing this. I really wanted to explore how they might interact when they're both a little looser and bolder, and they definitely needed a push to get past the awkward 'hello again after three years' crap, so this seemed like the right opportunity for it. I love seeing these two play off each other, it feels like such a game of back and forth.
> 
> I did think about splitting this into two chapters and then posting them in quick succession, but then I figured I've made you guys wait long enough. You deserve some headway with the Zutara. We're really going to be getting into the crux of their interactions over the next few chapters, so buckle in! Plus Toph's field trip is imminent (I love Toph so much, can you tell?).
> 
> Also, I've been re-working the structure of where this is all going, and I think the reason I've felt as thought it didn't progress smoothly enough is because I've been seeing it as one work when really it's two. So FiF will be wrapping up faaaiiiirrrlly soon, then the second half of the story will come in a sequel AND THEN if my energy holds out it will potentially at some point in the future become a trilogy (I have huge plans for the third one with lots of in-world myth-building and some character work that feels kind of intimidating, so it really depends on whether or not I feel as though I can make that happen in a way I'm happy with). Will keep everyone updated about what to expect as we go!
> 
> Love to all, and hope you're staying home, staying healthy, staying safe. Support your key workers by listening to isolation advice.


	15. Juncture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.
> 
> Okay, so...
> 
> I know it's been ages. And I know that I keep having to apologise because the gaps in between chapters are getting longer and longer, but honestly I don't really know what else to say. Aside from all the craziness going on in the world, I've been suffering from mahoosive writer's block with this chapter - I knew exactly what was going to happen but could not find the right words to actually make it happen. Plus I realised (again) that what I thought was one chapter was actually two. Once I'd sorted that out it all came much more easily, so most of what you're gonna read here was actually written in like the last two days as I got my shit together.
> 
> Also my god I hate writing fight scenes.
> 
> The upside (hopefully) is that I already have a good 1200 words of the next chapter written, and then the one after that is almost complete (oh boy, buckle in for that one, lads, I had been working on that for literal months), so (and I say this with a fistful of salt) there shouldn't be such long gaps between updates now.
> 
> BUT ANYWAY here we go.
> 
> TW: Light-ish combat and blood. Emotional turmoil. Toph being a vaguely aggressive cinnamon roll. Drunk Sokka.

They'd be back at the residence by now if Aang had kept his mouth shut. Not that Zuko would usually have a problem with walking, but it's been a long day, and they're all at varying degrees of drunk, and _Aang_ isn't the one who needs to be up overseeing the formation of a never-done-before coalition government in approximately six hours.

Turning down Kuei's offer of a coach ride home from the party was kind of... short-sighted, is all he's thinking.

'Got something you want to share with the rest of us, there?'

Katara has fallen into slightly unsteady step next to him, swaying just a little after what must have amounted to a good half-bottle of that hazard that the Yu Daoans call liquor. Her eyes are glittering in the dark, and suddenly Zuko's not quite so upset by the whole _walking_ thing. He feels a smile pull at the corners of his mouth.

'Don't know what you mean.'

'Right, right, of course. So I must have been imagining you grumbling under your breath just now?'

'Must have been. Crazy how your senses can play tricks on you at this time of night.'

'Crazy.'

She's laughing at him, he knows, but he can't really bring himself to care. Not when it makes her voice sound like that, all musical and knowing. He can feel her gaze on him as they walk and he turns towards her, meeting her eye just for a moment before she looks away again up to the night sky.

They carry on along the road for a time, the silence that sits over the two of them both easy and weighted in some strange way. Sokka's drunken babbling sounds out from behind them at irregular intervals – a noise that feels more than incongruous with the stillness of the night – and before long the need to continue some kind of conversation, if only for the purpose of drowning the tribesman out, gets to be too much.

'So... No more with the, uh-' He waves a finger, gesturing vaguely towards the side of his head. 'No more with the hair... loop... things?'

An abrupt laugh bubbles up out of Katara's mouth seemingly against her will, her hand coming up just a little too late to catch it as it's released into the breeze.

Zuko stares at her, nonplussed –

'What?'

– and, yeah, perhaps just a little defensive. It's not lost on Katara, her attempt to appease him ever so slightly marred by both the song that still spins in her voice and the fact that she's just about the worst liar he's ever met.

'Nothing! It's nothing.' It only takes a few seconds of his pointed silence for her to yield. 'Okay, I'm sorry, it's just... you, making small talk. You know-' She straightens, her voice deepening as she brings her hand up in an awkward wave. '_Hello, Zuko here._'

He cringes around the self-deprecating chuckle that makes its way up his chest.

'Oh, come on. Give me a break, that was obviously not my best-'

He's interrupted by Sokka chiming in from behind them, rambling happily to himself as cues from their conversation trickle slowly into his already steeped head.

'Zuko's bad at making his talk small. Only big talk for Zuko.'

Katara twists to look despairingly at her brother, sharing a long-suffering look with Suki before turning back to Zuko, the two of them breaking into a new liquor-loosened, shoulder-shaking bout of laughter as their eyes meet.

'Lord Zuko.'

Irritation grates across the space under Zuko's lower ribs, and he feels the buoyancy start to leach out of his gait as he turns to find his head of security striding along next to him.

'What's wrong, Aneko?'

'We're being followed.'

Oh.

Okay, so his irritation with her may have been unwarranted.

He turns, he hopes with a degree of subtlety, to look back over his shoulder as he walks, and takes stock of the unsettlingly sizeable group of people that seems to have emerged from nowhere to gather some distance behind them. Somehow, it doesn't look like a fan club.

'Right.' Zuko gives his head a sharp shake in a completely ineffective attempt to clear it of the haze that still clings to the edges of his thoughts. 'Right, I'll go and see what's going on and-'

'Or – and of course this is just a suggestion, my lord – you could let me deal with it. What with it being my job, and what with you being in what could be called an impaired state, I think it might be better for me to take this one.'

Tightening his fists, Zuko pushes back the rush of defiance that still sweeps over him whenever he's reminded of the constraints that come with being Fire Lord.

'Great. Fine. Go do that, then.'

Aneko's face remains carefully neutral, her irritation with him given away only by the tension in her jaw that, even in his _impaired state_, he knows is a mirror of his own.

'You can handle it next time if you really want, my lord. Although I do wonder if your energy might be better directed towards other ventures.'

Well, he's got no response to that, has he? Nothing that doesn't make him sound like a sulking twelve-year-old, at any rate. Aneko takes his bitten tongue as leave, bowing quickly before dropping back to handle the group behind them. He and Katara are left to walk a few paces further in what feels like a rather telling silence before the conversation starts up again.

'I mean, she's kind of got a point.'

'A pointy point. Right at the end of her knife, that's where she keeps her point.'

Sokka again. But this time Zuko doesn't laugh, ignoring his friend's mumbling to focus on Katara's words.

'Meaning what?'

She shoots him a reproving look at the petulance that laces his tone, a hint of amusement still caught in the quirk of her brow, and he settles slightly, nodding an apology as she goes on.

'Meaning she's got a point. Look, it's not as if anyone doubts that you can look after yourself-'

'Zuko can look after himself. He's the guy with the fire. Fire in his hands. Fire hands. Watch out, they'll burn ya.'

'_Spirits_, Sokka... But Zuko, seriously, do you really want to _need_ to look after yourself? From the sounds of it you barely get any time off as it is – do you really want to spend it constantly keeping part of your mind focussed on looking out for trouble? Isn't it nicer to be able to just, you know, _walk_ right now, without having to worry about what's going on back there?'

'I guess.'

Katara snorts, loud and irreverent, and echoes his words back at him in a way that's clearly meant to demonstrate what an idiot he's being.

'You guess.'

He feels the muscles of his face tugging into a smile in spite of himself, and is on the verge of saying something – anything, really – to keep the tone of the conversation going when Katara steps sideways into him, bumping his shoulder unceremoniously with her own. Ordinarily, Zuko's ability to stay rooted is a point of pride for him – so much of firebending is based in being grounded, after all – but tonight being what it has been he finds himself at momentum's mercy, stumbling a few steps off-balance.

Which turns out to be just as well, because without warning, just as the topic's been broached that perhaps it doesn't have to be his problem, the gang of Yu Daoans behind them emphatically _becomes_ his problem.

The blade slices through the air between him and Katara, cutting across the space where he'd been standing just a split-second prior before it lodges, quivering, in the strut of a vendor's stall a few feet in front of them.

It takes a fraction longer than he'd like for Zuko to make sense of it.

And another fraction for his body to react to what he's telling it to do.

And, yeah, perhaps one more for his vision to sharpen up properly.

But _then_ he's facing the band of attackers, stance low, the alcohol draining out of him in one abrupt flush that he swears he can _hear_ as adrenaline floods into its place.

As it always does when he's in combat, time seems to move at half-pace, stretching and lengthening into a whirl of colour and sound that redefines everything around him. Gone are the hoots of cat owls calling from the trees, the silvery monochrome of the night, the gentle gusts of wind that blow through the streets, and where they were he finds noises that disguise and distract, dark corners to obscure threats, and shifting airstreams that he needs to factor into his firebending forms.

Aneko already has one man pinned down, free hand wielding her tanto against further assailants with devastating accuracy even from her low vantage point, and she's not alone in the fight – at some point three, four, five more figures in deep red clothing seem to have materialised and engaged in lightning-fast combat with other members of the Yu Daoan party.

As a generous number of attackers break free of the fray and begin darting through the shadowed streets towards them, Zuko spares a quick glance over at the rest of the gang. Suki has already tackled Sokka – who is categorically in no fit state to fight but who nevertheless seems quite determined to do so – to the ground, throwing an apology over her shoulder before launching herself into the path of two green-clad figures brandishing daos and chain whips.

Arrows start to sprout from points in the ground by his feet, and Zuko lifts his gaze to find shadows moving across the roofs of the buildings that line the street – he's glad to find that the uisuki hasn't hurt his aim too much as he lands a hit on one of the marksmen and sends them skidding off the tiles, but then his attention is pulled away from the rooftops and back to the oncomers at ground level.

Moving forwards to meet a pair of them, he has just enough time to throw a deflecting blast at the blazing line of fire that comes swinging towards him from one woman before he's sinking into the ground up to his knees. Caught in the earthbender's snare, it's all he can do to defend against the volley of projectiles being fired his way as the couple gains ground. Then Katara moves into his line of vision, throwing out an arc of water that scythes towards the Yu Daoans and buys him a couple of crucial seconds.

'Toph!'

'On it.'

Toph turns and stamps a heel in Zuko's direction, then goes back to lazily flicking archers off roofs from her place next to Sokka. The Water Tribe man is stuck in a position not unlike the one Zuko had been in moments before, sucked partway into the earth in an attempt to keep him from barrelling into the fight – he's clearly not happy with the situation, arms flailing as he tries to break free, and as Zuko watches a wayward arrow catches him across the shoulder.

But now that Zuko's free, he's got his own issues to deal with; their opponents have recovered from Katara's attack, and as thrilling as it might be to watch her hold her own against two clearly expert benders, he can feel the blood buzzing in his body with the exhilaration of the fight, the sparks at his fingers practically itching to break loose.

Besides, from the way the Yu Daoan gang members keep trying to fight their way past the others in his direction, he's pretty sure that he's the one that they're after – it would be wrong of him not to make some kind of appearance.

As the earthbender steps forwards into an attack against Katara, Zuko sends a wave of flame across the ground towards the woman's supporting leg and knocks her off balance. Katara shifts her full focus onto the firebender, narrowly avoiding a lash to the face from her adversary's long, rope-like braid as Zuko's own opponent finds her feet and advances towards him.

'It's been a while since we fought together.'

Katara's voice rises over the clash of battle, and Zuko huffs out a laugh, blocking a blow from the earthbender before spinning into a strike of his own which pushes the woman back a couple of feet.

'Having fun?'

'I am, actually. You?'

'Yep.'

'Is that bad?'

'Probably.'

The earthbender finds her way through a gap in his guard, forgoing bending at close quarters to twist into him and land a hard crack across his face with her elbow. He feels his nose give way, spots bursting across his vision, and it's only down to years' worth of training that he keeps his wits about him enough to drop into a crouch and sweep the woman's legs out from underneath her.

Half-blinded, he grapples momentarily with his opponent before finding a hold that takes and sending a burst of heat through his hand – the woman cries out, faltering, and then he's pinned her to the ground, his knee in her back and a burning ball of fire held in warning next to her head.

His whole face is pulsing with pain so heavy that every breath hurts, but he stems the flow of blood from his nose with his free arm and looks up just in time to see Katara catching the Yu Daoan firebender in the head with a water whip, sending her to the ground and ending their fight.

One of the men in green breaks free from a member of the security team, pulling Zuko's gaze with a shout that's swiftly cut off as Aneko steps in and almost casually flips him so that he ends up sprawled across the gravel of the road.

A quick sweep of the area shows Zuko that, with that, the clash is winding down on all fronts. The only one still going is Aang, who seems to be drawing his fight out purely because he's enjoying himself far too much to end it. Zuko gets the impression that his opponents haven't been able to land a single hit – the two men look close to exhaustion as they continue to swipe half-heartedly at a target that darts out of their reach with every attempt, but the Avatar's face is bright and smiling, looking for all the world like his thirteen-year-old self in the midst of a game of kuai ball.

'Zuko! Are you okay?'

The team have started to round up the Yu Daoans, dragging them from the ground and herding them, wrists bound, into a group a good thirty paces down the street. Now Zuko's vision, still slightly blurred, settles on Katara's face in front of him.

'I'b find.'

His voice is thick, the words coming as though he's suffering from the world's worst head cold, and despite the twinge of pain it causes, he can't help but narrow his eyes at the laugh that Katara doesn't quite manage to stifle.

'Yeah, you really seem it.'

Any other time, he'd be more than happy to give that one his best efforts in return – _what,_ _you mean this isn't how my nose is meant to feel?_ – but right now the two words that he's already spoken feel like plenty, so he settles for a grunt that conveys the general tone of what he thinks of her sarcasm.

This time, she doesn't bother hiding her laughter.

'Okay, I get it, not a time to make jokes. Do you want to move your hand so I can get a look at your nose?'

His whole arm is sticky with blood, pulling at his skin as he lifts it away from his face. He winces as the cool night air hits him.

'Spirits, Zuko, you've got a really funny definition of the word _fine_.'

Katara sinks to a sit before him, drawing what's left out of the waterskin at her side and lifting her hands to his face. He flinches instinctively away from her touch, and the movement sends a penetrating throb through his head that makes him hiss in pain.

'Try to stay still and I can heal it for you. Sorry, I know it hurts.'

'Doesn't look too hot, either.'

'Toph.'

'What? The way he sounds, there's no way his face doesn't look like crap right now.'

Zuko just about manages to keep back a snort at Toph's words, holding still under the gentle touch of Katara's fingers even as the pressure makes his fists clench tight. After a few moments, though, the pain starts to ease and he finds that he can speak without feeling as though his head's about to burst open.

'Man, they really teach them how to throw an elbow over here.'

He takes a moment to test out the movement in his face, probing experimentally at his nose, and when he looks back at Katara he's pain-free, vision clear enough to make out the chunk of her hair that's been blackened and singed by her opponent's fire.

'Thanks.'

'No problem. Good as new, if I do say so myself.'

As Katara turns away to attend to a nasty-looking cut across Toph's ribs, Zuko casts a look around at the rest of the street – he gets a short-lived view of Suki and Aang hauling Sokka off the ground before it's blocked by a pair of dark red suneate. Biting back a groan, he pushes to his feet and comes eye-to-eye with Aneko, his still-bloodied face taking on a whole new weight under the guard's gaze.

'So I guess this is the evidence you were looking for to prove that I can't handle this sort of thing myself. I'm surprised you didn't have me removed as soon as the trouble started.'

If he sounds bitter, it's because... Well, because he _feels_ bitter. Aneko lets out a weary sigh, screwing her eyes shut and rubbing at her temple.

'Lord Zuko, I'm not sure what else I can do to make it clear that I am not your enemy. I've never had any doubts about your capacity to look after yourself if you should need to, and I'm not trying to look for evidence that proves otherwise. My job is to help keep you safe and make your life a bit easier, not to hold you back.'

Zuko hesitates, thrown.

'Well, I-... Okay.'

Her eyebrows lift, disbelief running clear in her voice.

'Okay?'

'Yes. Okay.' The words come haltingly, grudgingly, but they do come. Then, after a long pause: 'Thank you.'

'Not at all, my lord.'

Gods, the look of pleasantly-surprised triumph that's starting to spread across her face makes him want to call the Yu Daoan earthbender over so he can be sucked back into the ground again. He nods stiffly at the rest of the security team, all of them still milling around as they organise the group of attackers.

'They're new.'

'Yes, well, I thought it might be pertinent to have a larger active detail, my lord, following the most recent attempts on your life.'

'Wait, what?'

Aang's face is creased in an expression of puzzled concern at Aneko's revelation as he joins them where they stand, and Zuko winces, shooting a reproachful glare at the older woman before muttering his response to the airbender's questioning.

'It's nothing.'

'Nuh-uh, you're not getting away from this that easily,' Toph pitches in. 'I don't know what you've heard, but I think the general idea is that attempts on lives are a whole lot more than nothing.'

'Yeah, Zuko, what's she talking about?'

For a moment, pressed under Aang and Toph's interrogation, Zuko's mind races to think of something to explain it all away – a joke, a misunderstanding, anything to try and burn off this sense of otherness that he's feeling.

But nothing comes, and he sighs defeatedly, suddenly exhausted.

'It would've been crazy to think that I could just step into being Fire Lord without anyone objecting. Plenty of people have reason to dislike me, and some of them are more forceful about it than others.'

Toph snorts.

'Well, yeah, we could've guessed that. No one here's surprised that there are people out there who want to kill you, Sparky, we're just wondering why you never said anything about it.'

_Seriously, where did that Yu Daoan_ _earthbender go?_

'It didn't seem like something I needed to bother you guys with. It was all under control and-'

'Under control?' Scepticism is an uncharacteristic look on Aang. 'How many times has this sort of thing happened?'

Zuko casts a quick glance at Katara, her voice notably absent in the discussion, and he finds that she's watching him closely with a strange, thoughtful expression painted across her face. But there's no time to stop and unpick that – Aang and Toph are waiting for an answer.

'Not that many. Two or three.' Their faces make it clear that they aren't buying it, and he almost growls in frustration before spitting out the truth: 'Seven.'

Aang balks, but Toph just scowls and rolls her eyes, reaching up to swat him around the head in a way that feels supremely unfair given how much damage it's already taken tonight.

'Moron.'

'Hey, I'm-'

'You're a moron, yeah.'

Agni, she actually seems kind of angry, and despite still being a full head shorter than he is, there's something undeniably intimidating about the younger girl's frame as she squares up to him.

'You didn't want to _bother_ us? A few people want you dead, and you decided that we wouldn't be able to cope with the thought of it so you just sat there and went through it on your own? What, you think we're that fragile?'

As she speaks, she punctuates her words with the occasional sharp punch to his arm which hurts more than he's willing to admit.

'Maybe it slipped your mind, but we've all had people trying to kill us before, nimrod – that's nothing new. And when that shit happens, we _help_ each other.'

Her hand drops to her side and she sinks back a step, suddenly looking much more like the sixteen-year-old that she is than she did a couple of seconds ago. The vehemence hasn't left her voice, though, her words still coming at him almost like accusations despite their content.

'We're a family, okay? Get it into your thick fucking head.'

A wave of emotion sweeps over Zuko, and he thinks it's probably a good thing that she can't see the no doubt stupid smile that's curling at his mouth – she'd probably hit him again.

'Okay.'

He just about manages to get the word out in a way that sounds vaguely normal. Mercifully, he's saved from having to say anything else as Sokka belligerently announces his approach to the group.

'I can't believe you guys wouldn't let me join in! I can fight! I'm a good fighter, really good with the whole fighting thing. I could fight all night if I needed-'

The tribesman is cut off as he promptly trips over his own feet and lands face-first in the road. For a moment he doesn't move, seemingly resigned to lying where he's fallen, but then he shuffles slowly to standing, voice cracking and dejected as he turns away from them and starts to make his way down the street.

'Okay, someone take me home, please.'

'I'll do it.' Katara steps forwards and slings her brother's uninjured arm over her shoulders. 'We'll fix that wound and get you to bed, yeah?'

'That sounds nice. You're such a nice sister.'

'Yeah, yeah, remember that the next time you tell me I'm being too overbearing.'

Zuko watches them walk away, Suki's placating tone – 'yes, I know you're a really good fighter, don't worry' – winding its way back to him as she and Katara steer Sokka in the direction of the residence.

The street feels strangely quiet now, the echoes of the fight more distant than they should be given the blood and arrowheads that are littered across the gravel. The cat owls are hooting again.

Aneko still stands before him, arms crossed as she addresses him with a composure which contradicts the lateness of the hour.

'Now, will you allow us to sort all of this out whilst you go and get some sleep? A member of the team will accompany you and your friends to your halls.'

Zuko finds he's not quite as aggrieved as he was before at the thought of a little help. Just a little. Aneko returns his nod with one of her own, spinning to walk a brisk few paces away from him before turning back momentarily.

'And for what it's worth, I hold no opinion that taking a hit in battle means someone is incapable of looking after themselves.'

He's not sure how to respond to that, settling for another nod as Aang throws an arm around his shoulders and they start to make their way back to the residence, Toph smoothing out the signs of battle from the road behind them as they go.

* * *

Katara's shoulders are aching, the muscles already protesting with even the most benign of movements, and as she makes her way towards her room she reflects on the idea that perhaps running bending forms in between healing studies isn't quite the same as being back on the battlefield again.

The residence is quiet, everyone else holed away in their rooms for whatever sleep the night still has left to offer them.

Or, at least, almost everyone.

'Zuko?'

He's walking towards her, tunic exchanged for a pair of loose maroon trousers and matching shirt, crown absent in anticipation of sleep. The two of them slow to a stop as they converge in the middle of the hallway.

'Hi.'

'Hey. Did you get Sokka all sorted out?'

'Oh, yeah. The wound was pretty superficial – healed up without any problems. I think it's the headache he's going to wake up to that he needs to be more worried about.' She cocks her head a little, surveying him where he stands. 'What are you doing? Aren't your quarters in the other direction?'

'I was going to get some tea.'

'Tea? Right now? Don't you have a pretty big meeting first thing in the morning?'

Zuko laughs softly.

'Try living with my uncle for three years and then tell me you can get to sleep properly without having a cup of tea first.'

'Ah. That does sound like Iroh.'

'Yeah.' A pause. 'Do you, uh... Do you want some? Tea.'

'Oh, um... Yeah, sure.'

She turns and starts to lead the way back down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, but as she does something gnaws in the back of her mind. It takes a second for her to pinpoint, and then it suddenly seems to click into place – that odd feeling she'd had earlier when the others had been so surprised to hear about Zuko's previous brushes with extremists. She stops, so abruptly that Zuko almost walks into her, and when she turns towards him they end up standing practically chest-to-chest, close enough that the smell of woodsmoke washes over her and she needs to tilt her head up to look him in the eye properly.

'I knew about the assassination attempts.'

He frowns, perplexed.

'Um... Yeah?'

'I knew. You didn't tell anyone else, but you told me.'

He's still not following.

'Sure, I told you, what's-'

'Why didn't you say anything about the Fire Sages trying to marry you off? We've been writing back and forth for the last year, you've talked about everything else that's been going on in your life – things you kept from all the others – but you didn't mention this? Why not?'

Zuko stills as she speaks, the graze of his breath on her forehead pausing, the rise and fall of his chest held in stasis as his eyes probe at her face. Moments pass, slow and viscous, before his voice comes hoarse through the quiet:

'I imagine the same reason you didn't tell me there was a guy who wanted to marry you in the North Pole.'

And now the moments aren't passing anymore. Now they're fixed in one interminable, breath-holding instant as they're finally brought to the brink of acknowledging the gravity that has pulled at them across years and oceans alike, as her eyes fall from the gold of his gaze to the parting of his lips, as his head dips just fractionally towards her-

As she tenses, sucking in a deep breath that's meant to clear her head but only sends it spinning harder with the smell of him, and draws back.

'This is dangerous.'

Her voice is still hushed, stuck hovering in the wake of the crossroads that she's just steered them through, the nostalgia of something that only almost came to pass.

'Dangerous?'

'Yeah.'

Zuko seems to shake out of a trance, the space between them somehow growing as comprehension hits him even though neither of them has stepped away.

'Right. Right, because in a couple of weeks...'

'All this will have been sorted out.'

'And I'll go back to the Fire Nation.'

'And I'll go back to the North Pole. So it'll be much simpler if we just keep things...'

'Friendly.'

'Yeah. Friendly.' She puts everything she has into forcing the words to come out level, but it's a lost cause, particularly when- 'Spirits, you're going to have to stop doing that, then.'

He blinks.

'Doing what?'

'_That._ That _thing_ that you're doing where you look at me like I'm...' She cuts off with a ragged pull of breath, forcing herself still as she wraps her arms across her chest in some attempt to hold everything together.

Their eyes meet again, and for what feels like the thousandth time she sees her reflection in him – that same quiet twist of something that feels almost like homesickness, something deep-rooted and undeniable that nonetheless seems destined to go denied.

She doesn't know what justice she can really do it all by speaking again, but she speaks all the same.

'This is going to be rough.'

An understatement. Such a ludicrously wild understatement that she almost thinks she feels the beginnings of laughter roiling in her stomach. But then the whole thing is so incredibly unfunny that it could just as easily be nausea.

Zuko is silent for a second. Two. Five. And then he lets loose a sigh that sounds as though all the air is being pressed out of him.

'Feels that way, yeah.'

'But...'

_But we have to be realistic, here._

_But otherwise it'll be even worse later._

_But it's for the best._

He nods.

'But.'

They stand in the hall for a few breaths longer, neither seeming to want to be the first to break the moment in which they're both suspended. Then Zuko presses his lips together, a muscle in his jaw tightening, and he turns away wordlessly towards his quarters. Katara feels her shoulders tense with the need to follow him, curling her hands into fists so that her nails sting at her palms before turning herself and walking stiffly to her room. She sits, unsleeping, until light starts to seep back into the sky outside, tiredness forgotten as she tries to calm the ache that's carving a hollow in the pit of her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like the record to show that really we're only like 55,000 words in and this is by far not the slowest of burns to be found in fanfiction. You should count yourselves lucky, really. Yeah. Lucky. That tracks.
> 
> Also I know I said this last time but for real this time Toph's field trip is coming so stay tuned.
> 
> Also also, if you fancy following me on tumblr then I'm there as ifyouwereamelodymeg. At the moment I'm really just re-posting this story chapter-by-chapter in a shameless attempt to garner more readers, but I'm hoping to get more creative with it once I'm all caught up with that!
> 
> As always, let me know what you think!


	16. Unearthed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I keep lying about the field trip. I genuinely, genuinely thought that this was gonna be the one but then the group scene completely took over. What can I say, I am clearly not in control of this story.
> 
> TW: Nil genuine aside from the usual occasional language (maybe a wee bit more than usual because, you know, Toph). Sokka's mad imagination. Sad Toph using aggression and sarcasm as defence mechanisms. A touch of Momtara and Dadko.

It becomes a game, of sorts. A totally inappropriate, definitely ill-advised, _futile_ game which, despite what they've agreed, despite the unquestionable pain that it brings and can only keep bringing, neither of them seems to be able to stop. Every moment in Zuko's presence is bated – a held breath, a caught glance, a touch that lingers just a little too long to be entirely casual, entirely _friendly_.

And she knows. Katara knows that it can't go anywhere real, that it can't mean anything. The thought sits like a bitter reminder on the back of her tongue, something that she tries to both heed and ignore in equal measure.

But _stars_, it's like she's completely powerless, as prone to dissipating as sea spray under the heat of his gaze. He's the sun, and what can she do but be drawn helplessly into his orbit?

It's all pretty pathetic, really.

Because they're both adults, aren't they? They're both smart, accomplished people; surely they have more self-control than this? This is _juvenile_, this is –

'We need to talk.'

This is not going to go away.

_Shit_.

She looks up from her scroll to eye Zuko cautiously where he stands in the doorway

'Talk?'

_Didn't we already do that? What else are we meant to say?_

'About Toph.'

Oh. She straightens, frowning.

'Toph? Why? What about her?'

It's a strange contrast that he strikes, leaning against the frame of the door in a way that seems far too informal for the official robes that he still has on after yet another early-morning meeting. His face pinches in uncertainty, mind clearly working through something as a hand comes up to rub absentmindedly at the back of his neck.

'It might be nothing. But before you arrived, Jun let slip that Toph hadn't been back to Gaoling since she left with you guys during the war and-'

'Wait, what? That's- I mean, that's insane.' She's half-laughing at the thought of it. 'Of course she went home. Jun was probably just trying to get you to doubt your team. Sow distrust, you know?'

'Toph was there. She didn't deny it. Besides, he was trying to get under her skin, and it worked. I don't think he had any reason to lie.'

Katara falls silent for a moment, working through Zuko's words, the laughter fading slowly from her face.

'But that-...' It doesn't compute, and her voice comes haltingly as she tries to speak before knowing what she wants to say. 'She wouldn't... 'Cause she's so... It doesn't make sense.'

Zuko lets out a sharp exhale, his face screwing up further as if pained.

'I know, that's what I thought too. That's why I think we need to figure this out.'

She doesn't miss the '_we' _of it all, the automatic assumption that they're in this together, but her mind is so busy working on the new problem laid before her that she manages to adopt the partnership that he's extended without stumbling.

Well, _much_. She's still human.

'Yeah, I- of course we do. We should talk to her about it.'

'She and Aang went to go and tour the metalworking factory. I figured we could see what we can piece together and then talk to her when they get back.'

She rises slowly to her feet, head whirring. Her fingers move automatically to thread through the ends of her hair, and she has a moment of surprise at finding it shorter than expected before she remembers the chunk that was burned off during the ambush a couple of nights ago.

'Okay, well, Suki's probably the one who's spent the most time with her over the last few years – she might be able to help make sense of it all?'

It comes out as a question, because honestly she's not even a bit convinced that they're going to get to the bottom of this without talking to Toph herself, but she can't deny that she's confused and worried and, yes, not just a little intrigued by how strange the whole thing sounds. Plus it's kind of nice to be focussing on someone else's issues for a while.

So before long, they've pulled Suki and Sokka in from where they were sparring in the courtyard, and the four of them have gathered around one of the low tables in the front room.

'I just don't understand why she never told us. I mean, we all thought that she was back with her parents, right?'

A ripple of acknowledgement runs around the table at Katara's question, and Sokka leans back on an elbow, studying the ceiling thoughtfully as he thinks out loud.

'That's the weird part of it all, really, isn't it? Her not telling us, I mean. Toph's into the _meet problems head-on_ thing – you know, _be like a rock_ and all that. Hiding stuff isn't really her deal.'

He jerks upright, limbs flailing in a sudden fit of excitement.

'Oh, _OH_, what if – and hear me out, here – _what if_ Kuei hired her for some, some kind of like undercover spy work, and she's been using her crazy mega-senses to listen in on enemy conversations and stuff, so she had to lie about where she was because otherwise her cover might be compromised? Eh? _Eh_?'

There's a pause as he stares at them all expectantly. When no reaction comes other than a few raised eyebrows, he throws his hands in the air and flops back down onto the floor with an exasperated scoff.

'Okay, so maybe she isn't a super-secret Earth Kingdom spy. But I stand by what I said – holding back isn't like her.'

'No, it's not,' Katara agrees slowly. 'Except... When's the only other time she's really lied to us?'

She's met with a blank stare from her brother, the slight shake of his head saying he doesn't know what she's talking about, and she presses a reminder towards him from the other side of the table.

'Back when she first joined us, when she ran away from home? She said that her parents had changed their minds and let her go, but they hadn't.'

'Huh, you're right.'

'From the start she's been way more guarded about the way her family treats her than she's ever been about anything else.'

Suki leans forwards, eyes distant in thought, elbow coming up to rest on the table. Her middle finger snaps repetitively against her thumb as she seems to mull things over, and the clicking sound of it echoes softly off the tiled walls until Sokka rests a hand lightly over hers. She blinks, winding her fingers into his and shooting a quick smile in his direction before focussing back on Katara.

'What I don't understand is-... Katara, weren't you going to go and stay with her at her parents' house? Why would she have agreed to that if there were still issues with that relationship? And you must've been sending letters to her in Gaoling around that time, right?'

A grimace creases Katara's face, and she shakes her head.

'No, actually, I wasn't. Every letter she sent was from Ba Sing Se, and she always said she was spending so much time in the capital that I should just write to her there rather than at home. Looking back I guess it sounds kind of weird, but at the time... I mean, Gaoling is a relatively small, southern city – it wasn't too badly damaged by the war. It made sense that Toph was working in the places where she'd be most helpful. That's why I didn't really question the letters or her cancelling my visit. Didn't she say similar things to you about writing to her?'

Her question is met with a wordless hum of denial before Suki clarifies:

'I was seeing her pretty regularly with work anyway – we didn't really need letters. And I took messages back and forth for her and Sokka, so they didn't need to write either.'

The Kyoshi warrior makes a sound that's somewhere in between a grumble and a sigh.

'It's funny, when I was working with her in Ba Sing Se, she always spoke as if she was only there for whatever job we were doing at the time. We'd finish up, say goodbye, and it always seemed like she was getting ready to head off home.'

'It was the same in her letters – she'd write about going back to her parents in between jobs and I-...'

'Oh, shit.'

The curse is quiet, a muttered dawning of insight rather than a true exclamation, but it's enough to turn the two women out of their dialogue and look to Zuko for explanation. He stays frustratingly quiet for a couple of seconds, and that's all it takes for Suki, ever-measured but clearly curious to the point of impatience, to prompt him.

'You've just figured something out, haven't you?'

'Not really, no. I still don't have any idea why she's been lying to all of us, but...' Zuko lets out a breath that isn't quite a sigh. 'What if in between those jobs she never even left Ba Sing Se? What if she was staying with someone in the city who'd be more than happy to give her a room for as long as she needed it?'

With his words, another shred of the fragmented story that they've been able to piece together so far slips into place; Katara can see the edges starting to take shape, the fringes taking on some colour under the meagre light they're managing to shed. But all the bits in the middle, all the bits that make up the body of the picture, remain maddeningly shadowed.

Sokka seems to find no such sense of ambiguity in it all, as he rises up to a sit again with scandal scrawled across his face.

'Oh my _gods_, Toph's in a secret relationship!'

As much as she loves him, as much as he can be astute and considered and even bordering on wise at times, Katara's not sure her eyes ever roll quite so frequently as when she's in her brother's presence.

'_Or_ she's been staying with Iroh, which is what I assume Zuko _actually_ meant.'

'Well, _excuse me_ for trying to lighten the mood.'

As he settles back onto his cushion again, the sarcastic twist of his face morphs into something more troubled, and his hand comes up to rub at his jaw in thought.

'It is weird, though, isn't it? Three years, all of us in pretty regular contact with her, and none of us ever even suspected that she wasn't based in Gaoling.'

'Don't beat yourself up over it, Snoozles. I'm pretty good at covering my tracks.'

The table they're sitting around judders a couple of inches across the floor as all four of them jolt at the sound of Toph's voice. Katara twists towards the entryway to find the earthbender standing with her arms crossed and a stubbornly unreadable expression on her face, Aang rigid with discomfort a couple of feet behind her.

'Toph, hi! We were just-'

'Talking about me, yeah, I heard.'

'I don't suppose there's any point in us denying it?'

Toph's eyebrow lifts, unimpressed, at Sokka's attempt at humour, but at the same time a tremor of something that almost looks like amusement flickers across her lips.

'Sure, give it a shot. That'll go down real well.'

On the floor, the four of them shoot uncertain looks across the table at each other. Toph gives them no leeway, no lifeline, standing silent before them as she waits for someone to speak. As much as she knows it isn't physically possible, Katara has the distinct sense that Toph's staring them down far more effectively than any sighted person ever could.

A few more painful moments pass, each feeling longer than the last, before Suki shifts where she sits and offers up a halting suggestion to the quiet. Her fingers start snapping again, and Katara wonders if the other woman is even aware of it, this physical echo of her mind at work.

'So you heard what we were saying. Do you... Would you like to talk about it?'

'Glad you asked. Not really.'

Silence again, save for Aang puffing out a flustered breath, eyes wide as they dart back and forth between Toph and the rest of them. This time, though, they aren't left to stew for long before Toph sighs melodramatically, cracking her neck in a way that makes Katara wince.

'But since you guys have clearly started already, I guess I'd rather set things straight than have to put up with all of you trying and failing to stay out of earshot as you whisper about it for the next week and a half. Weird, gossip is way less fun when it's about you.'

Her expression turns serious, verging on solemn, her arms tightening across her chest.

'The truth is...' She takes a slow, deep breath, as if steadying herself. 'The truth is, I'm in a secret relationship.'

An incredulous kind of triumph flashes briefly across Sokka's face, but it disappears as quickly as it came, collapsing to a disgruntled glower as Toph's façade cracks and she breaks into a graceless bout of sniggers.

'Don't do that. Why do you always have to do that?'

'Oh man, you just make it so easy. I don't have the kind of self-control to let that slide – I'm not a frigging angel.'

With that, the tension in the room seems to dissipate. Katara feels the breath release in her chest as Toph swaggers, still laughing, to the table and drops inelegantly to the floor beside Sokka.

'So, you finally started trying to figure it all out, huh? I've gotta say, I'm surprised no one's brought it up already.'

Sokka yelps as she elbows him none-too-gently in the ribs, the two of them breaking into a trifling tussle which culminates in Toph landing an effortless but seemingly devastating flick to Sokka's nose just as Katara and Zuko choose the same moment to intervene.

'Come on, are you guys still-'

'Seriously, cut it out-'

They both stall, their gazes flickering in concert towards each other in a way that's started to feel increasingly familiar over recent days. _ Friendly, Katara. _His eyes are far too amused for comfort, and the laughter in them probes with quite alarming precision at her thin walls of logic, those flimsy constructs lined with reminders of the promise of heartache that she keeps having to rebuild around herself every time he catches against them. _Just friendly. That's it._ A smile twitches at her mouth for a split-second, before she buries it back down under a heavy layer of sense and exasperation, and returns her attention to the rest of the group.

Sokka is rubbing at his nose and eyeing Toph sulkily, but he can't keep the interest from bleeding into his voice.

'So what, you were expecting this? You're not, you know, mad?'

'Are you kidding? You guys can't keep your noses out of anything, it's predictable as hell. Being mad at you would be like being mad at Appa for shedding or something stupid like that. I knew as soon as that asshat snitched on me that it was only a matter of time.'

Toph reclines back on her elbows, fingers tapping rhythmically against the tiles.

'Come on, then – what've you got so far?'

Katara glances sidelong at the others.

'Pretty much what you heard. We guessed that you've been staying with Iroh in Ba Sing Se, and Sokka came up with some... _colourful_ suggestions as to why you might not have gone back to Gaoling, but other than that...'

She tails off, offering up the empty space that she leaves behind to Toph in the hopes that they might finally get some answers.

'So jack shit, basically. For being insanely nosy you guys are really bad at this.'

'Well, any time you fancy filling in the blanks for us I'm sure we'd all be very gratefu- _Hey_!'

This time, Toph sends Sokka sprawling sideways across the floor with a well-placed shove before carrying on the conversation as though nothing's happened, Sokka's objections left wholly unheeded.

'Things were alright at first. I sent a letter along to my parents a couple of days after the war ended, and they wrote back saying they were proud of what I'd done and sorry for the way they'd behaved and all that and... It just sounded like things might be better, you know? Like they were finally accepting that I wasn't the daughter they'd expected to have, and that might be okay.'

By slow, shallow degrees, her face starts to collapse, growing darker as the nonchalance fades from her voice, and her feet wander from where they've been propped against the table to seek out the cool smoothness of the marbled floor.

'I'd said that I was helping out in the Fire Nation, and that I might need to stop by Ba Sing Se for a while before coming home, and at first that didn't seem to be a problem, but after a couple of months they started getting more...'

There's a pause, and Zuko's the first to fill it.

'Impatient?'

'I was gonna say 'crap', but sure, that works. They made it pretty clear that with the war over they expected me to head home and settle back into the life they'd had planned for me before – you know, the good little noble girl who marries some pretentious noble boy and makes a bunch of bratty noble babies and never does anything exciting or has any kind of opinion about anything other than table manners for the rest of her life.'

The pressure behind her words rises higher and higher, so by the time she finally pulls in a breath it takes her a moment to calm, and even with that the sharpness hasn't left her voice when she speaks again.

'So instead of going back to Gaoling from Ba Sing Se, I just... didn't. I stayed and I helped Iroh at the tea shop and pretended that things would just magically straighten themselves out. Call me crazy, but I wasn't exactly itching to go and deal with all that.'

'Why not?' Sokka is sitting up again, his earlier grievances forgotten. 'You're usually so confrontational- _not that that's a bad thing or anyth-_'

'They're my parents. They _suck_, but they're... I don't know if you've noticed, but hitting things head-on tends to break them.'

Even though it's said more as a gripe than a confession, even though it's accompanied by a determinedly neutral tilt of the head, Katara thinks it might be one of the most openly vulnerable things she's ever heard the earthbender say. She's not the only one who seems to feel it, either, because a sad kind of stillness seems to fall over the table, each of them processing the unexpected poignancy of Toph's words.

Which is clearly more solemnity than Toph herself is comfortable with.

'Huh. Downer.'

If she'd been closer, Katara might've prodded Sokka in reprimand for the muffled snort of laughter that escapes him. But as it is, her position across the table has her well-placed to catch the smirk that pulls at Toph's face in response, and she's struck by the thought that, if their friend is going to use humour as a defence mechanism, perhaps it's a good thing they have someone around who's quick to laugh.

With the silence growing just that bit more comfortable, Aang seems encouraged to venture into the conversation for the first time since sitting down.

'What about Iroh? Didn't he ever suggest that you talk to your parents?'

A flicker passes over Toph's face – a shrug that doesn't quite make it all the way down to her shoulders. Despite her attempts to make light, to loosen the hold that the story clearly has on her, there's still a brittleness to her voice that makes her sound liable to cracking.

'Sometimes. Most of the time we'd just work. Sit and have tea. Talk about you guys and the state of the world and meaningful shit like that. I think he knew there wasn't really any point in pushing the subject.'

'Why not?'

'Dunno. Knew I wasn't ready, I guess. You get it, right Sparky?'

Zuko nods, and Katara can't help but notice the way his eyes have warmed with the discussion turning to his uncle.

'Yeah, I can imagine. _Attempting to move the mountain is useless unless the mountain wishes to be moved._ Or something like that.'

Not for the first time, Katara wonders if Toph might be capable of having entire conversations via snorts alone. But on this occasion, the younger woman opts to follow up with actual words, and her voice stretches out into a lazy drawl that goes some way to returning it to its normal state of sounding too big for her frame.

'Wow, it's like he's really here.'

'You get what I mean. Uncle never really tries to get you to take any particular path. He just kind of nudges you with deep, open-ended questions until you come to a conclusion on your own.'

Toph sniggers, perhaps the only snigger Katara's ever heard that manages to sound fond.

'That crusty old genius.'

Sokka leans into the conversation again, elbow propped too-casually against the table, the tilt of his voice exaggeratedly rounded with all the inflections of someone trying and failing to be subtle.

'So like, that's nice and all, but... have you? Come to a conclusion, I mean. You, uh... You think you might be ready now?'

_Subtle as a harpoon._

'What, to go get married off to some high society dickwad? Can't wait, just try and hold me back.'

And as much as Katara agrees that her brother's complete lack of social dexterity probably warrants the sarcasm... maybe just a gentle nudge towards something a bit more sincere could be helpful.

'Toph, you know that's not what he meant.'

The table quietens again. Toph takes a sharp breath in as if about to retort, but then something seems to snag in her, and the air held in her chest releases in a quiet stream that sounds something like surrender. She pulls in on herself, all her limbs drawing up close to her body until she's perched atop her floor cushion, her contact with the marble lost entirely.

A few seconds pass, and no one speaks, and Sokka shoots a comically exaggerated shrug across the table at Katara but she responds with gritted teeth and a pointed widening of her eyes which she hopes tells him to _shut up_.

'Alright, yeah, sure, why not?'

The words come all at once and too loudly, almost forced out, a kernel of hope buried deep beneath layers of cynicism and fear and adorned with a bright sheen of false confidence. But Toph's back is straight again and her fists are held tight and ready, and now it's time to get to work.

'Right, okay. Brilliant! So, we'll need to get Appa saddled up – so long as Aang's okay with that – and packing, Toph should probably take enough things to last a few days in case she wants to stay, although I guess it's not like she ever really has more than that with her anyway, and we'll probably arrive late evening and then we'll-'

'Katara.'

She blinks at the sound of her name, the gentle but insistent hand that's suddenly alighted at the crook of her elbow, and phases out of her thoughts to find Zuko beside her. They're practically through the doors which lead out to the courtyard, standing a good ten yards away from the table where the rest of the group still sits. She hadn't even realised she was moving, really, carried on the stream of her thoughts as they kicked into high gear.

'What? What is it?'

Zuko seems almost uncomfortable, his face screwed up as if caught mid-wince. The pull of knowing there's a job to be done is still running keen and loud through Katara's mind, and she feels her brow lift, prompting him to say what he needs to say so that she can get on with sorting things out for Toph's trip.

'Look... I'm sorry, but I don't know if you're the best person to deal with this.'

That throws her. She recoils a little, frowning up at him, not sure whether she feels more confused or insulted.

'What? Why wouldn't I be? I'm trying to help.'

'I know. I just think that you might not have had the same kind of experience with your family that Toph has had with hers. I know you want to help her fix it, but the way that things are with families like that... There are different expectations. Different values. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong. I hope I'm wrong. But this might not be something that can be fixed.'

'Sure, but-'

'Katara.'

Somehow, he manages to fit sentences – a whole debate – into that one word. Since the last time he said it no more than a minute ago, it's as if he's changed the meaning in her name entirely. She stills, works through the weight of each syllable, finds the intention and reason he's put into the shape of each consonant... and she understands.

She _struggles_, there's no point denying that.

She's not _thrilled_ that this is a problem that she's maybe, perhaps not best equipped to handle.

But she understands.

And there's a _small_ chance that this sort of situation _might_ just be a good learning point in her whole 'you don't have to be what everyone else needs you to be' journey.

'Okay. Okay, you're right.'

His lips don't move, but something like the essence of a smile seems to lift his face, creasing at the corners of his eyes. He nods, just a slight dip of his head, and with that it's as if all of a sudden Katara becomes acutely aware of how close he's standing – her thoughts have stopped buzzing with plans for Gaoling, and the present has come sweeping back in, and now here they are again in that indistinct space between friendly and dangerous where breaths come shorter and the warm pressure of his hand against her arm is abruptly, patently substantial.

Her eyes are drawn down to the place where his hand makes contact with her skin just as his hold is released. For a moment – an _extremely misguided_ moment – a swell of disappointment rises in her. But instead of dropping to his side, his hand comes up, fingers brushing fleetingly through the loose ends of her hair where it spills down over her shoulders before he seems to catch himself.

'Right.' He withdraws bodily, taking a full step back from her and nodding again, blunter this time. 'So if Toph's okay with it then I'll go with her to Gaoling. I'll take the rest of the day to make sure everything's set up to keep running here and we'll travel overnight. That way whatever happens I should be back in Yu Dao tomorrow evening and- Yeah.'

'Yeah. Good.'

'Okay.'

'Okay.'

Katara suspects they're both aiming for collected, unruffled, but the attempt is feeble at best and they end up landing somewhere around stilted. He turns to make his way back to the rest of the group, and she takes the opportunity to cringe silently behind him before following. As they take their places back at the table, they're met by a raised brow from Toph.

'I don't know why you even bother lowering your voices. You know I can still hear everything you're saying.'

The grin on her face is brutal, relishing – 'like a tiger shark', as Gran-Gran would say. And it's every bit the face she pulled at Kuei's party:

_I know I can't see googly eyes, but I can sure as hell hear them. _

_Even from ten yards away. _

_Get your shit together, Sugar Queen, this is just fucking tragic._

'Great, so you heard the plan. If it's alright with you, Zuko's going to go with you to Gaoling tonight.'

A decent imitation of composure. Thank the gods.

Aang jumps in, nudging Toph enthusiastically.

'Hey, hey, you know what that means, right?'

A smile – different, somewhat more muted than before, but a smile nonetheless – makes its way slowly across Toph's face.

'Time for a life-changing field trip with Zuko.'

Next to Katara, Zuko groans. His head drops back dramatically, shoulders slumping.

'Oh gods, are we still on that?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a more emotionally exposed Toph is definitely a challenge. As I've been writing, her voice has kind of swung back and forth between vulnerable and sarcastically defensive, so that's what's ended up on the page and I hope that it feels true to her character - let me know your thoughts!
> 
> And okay, I swear to God, her field trip is honestly, definitely, undoubtedly coming up next. Pinky promise. Stay tuned.
> 
> BUT ALSO, for those who are new to the fandom and particularly to the Zutara ship, y'all may not be aware that ZUTARA WEEK is right around the corner. Prompts this year look like fun, and since it's my first year being active in the fandom I'm going to do my best to actually participate. I will absolutely try to be strict with myself and limit my writing for ZW to the actual week itself, and not let it get in the way of updating here (hilarious, since I'm shoddy at best with this), but the road to hell is paved with good intentions and like I think I've proven that I'm entirely unreliable when it comes to scheduling. No matter what, I hope everyone enjoys the absolute slew of Zutara content that's going to be coming our way shortly!


	17. Catharsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE LIVES. Just
> 
> Guys, exams were... Kind of rough? Like I said before, of them only has like a 40% pass rate the first time people sit it, so I'm not holding out *loads* of hope, but we'll see how things go when results come out in six weeks' time.
> 
> But until that time, I'm writing again! There's a very real chance that my brain was fried by revision, so there may be parts where I just haven't made sense at all - I have attempted to proofread, it's not working, there will almost definitely be mistakes. Be gentle.
> 
> So, without further ado, I present to you Toph's much-awaited field trip (after a bit o' Katara time, because I do love Katara time)!
> 
> TW: Pretty light on the swearing as far as Toph goes, but still some swearing. Family issues. A touch of gal power (do not read if not okay with gal power, it's very simple). Aneko is a slightly straight-laced sweetheart

The halls are significantly quieter with Toph gone, and significantly safer with Zuko away. For today, at least, Katara can walk through their temporary quarters with no ear held in reserve for the cadence of his footsteps echoing off the marbled walls, no anticipation of the moment when he passes her by and she has to attempt to arrange her face into something that doesn’t tear a strip right out of their well-meaning but completely unbearable contract.

It’s both a relief and, however much she tries to deny it to herself, a hole that she can’t quite seem to ignore. He’s just as tangible in his absence as he is standing right in front of her.

But, mercifully, she has plenty going on to keep herself occupied. The morning is spent helping Aang as he pores over reams of notes outlining the shortlist for Yu Dao’s new council (the term ‘shortlist’ being a wild misnomer, in Katara’s opinion). As a neutral party between nations, the job has fallen primarily to him to assess the appropriateness of each potential member nominated by their respective rulers; five local to Yu Dao with long-mixed roots, and then a representative from each of the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom pools.

‘But you’re Water Tribe, so that means you’re neutral, too. Seriously, Katara, don’t make me go through all this on my own. I’ll go insane.’

It’s nice to spend time with him, just the two of them – to laugh, and chat, and make fun of the various scandals that spring up as they peruse the histories of no less than forty-six candidates. Aside from Sokka, Aang was the person she had most contact with during her time in the South Pole, and after smoothing things out with him post-comet it was as if everything had settled into the place that it was meant to be in all along: an easy, comfortable companionship, re-solidified amongst the snow drifts where she’d first found him, and unmarred by the flurries and footprints of disparity that had latticed their friendship before.

‘Oh wow, look at what this guy did to his family’s beach house when he was seventeen.’

‘Huh, I wouldn’t have thought you could cause that much damage with just a few juggling balls and a turkey duck. That’s almost impressive.’

Sokka ambles in around midday, arms laden with fruits and meats from the nearby market, and he calls over to them as he passes through to the kitchen.

‘Guys, lunch is in half an hour-’ _Sokka cooking, still bizarre_, Katara thinks. ‘-and then Suki was thinking we could all go for dinner at this place she went past on her run earlier.’

Now _that_ sounds more like the brother she’s used to.

‘That’s not you thinking about your next meal before you’ve had this one, is it? How out of character.’

‘Shut it. You coming or what?’

As the afternoon passes, clouds start to gather in the sky, and soon the steady drum of rain comes sweeping through the open windows and doors of the halls. After a quick nip outside to check on Druk in the courtyard –

‘See, if you control the heat instead of breathing fire, you can make steam jets with the rain.’

– Katara is meandering her way back to her room to clean up for dinner when she’s met in the atrium by a soaked Aneko. The warrior is out of breath, leaving a wet trail behind her on the tiles as she comes in from the swelling storm outside.

‘Aneko? What on earth were you doing out in this, you must be freezing!’

‘Training.’ The older woman straightens, nodding a thank you at Katara as the water is pulled from her uniform and sent back out through the door. ‘It’s an important part of my job to be able to work in any kind of setting. I make a point of running drills when the conditions are less than ideal.’

‘Wow. That’s dedicated.’

Aneko chuckles.

‘It’s the job. A day off is never really a day off.’

It’s only at that moment that Katara is prompted of the strangeness of seeing Aneko without Zuko somewhere nearby; this is the first time she’s encountered the other women one-on-one, despite her near-omnipresence in the residence during their stay.

‘Yeah, why is it that you’re here? I would’ve thought that you’d be in Gaoling with Zuko and Toph.’

‘I thought it best to send another member of the team today. My sense is that some time without me in his periphery will do Lord Zuko good. He just seems to find the idea of someone else more... palatable.’

Katara tilts her head, appraising.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, what is it about you, specifically? You’ve been working with him pretty much from the start, right? How come the two of you get along so badly?’

‘Hm. Yes. Unfortunately I suspect that is, at least in part, my own doing.’ Aneko jerks her head in the direction of the front room, continuing her line of thought as they traipse through and settle at a table. ‘When I first started on the job, I thought he was too young and idealistic. In an effort to mitigate that, I probably treated him much like the incapable child that he believes I still see him as being.’

‘And now?’

A pause, and then Aneko’s answer comes slow and measured, like she’s tempering the offence of speaking ill of her ruler.

‘I still believe he’s young and idealistic.’

‘And that’s a bad thing?’

She shakes her head.

‘Not exactly. He has big, impressive plans for the nation, he works hard, he has the country’s best interests at heart... I believe he’s a good man, and in a lot of ways a good ruler. Great, even.’

There’s a kind of warmth bleeding into the guard’s voice, no matter how much she might be trying to maintain a sense of professionalism, so it’s only with a hint of defensiveness on Zuko’s behalf that Katara speaks up.

‘It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.’

Aneko lets out the most dignified snort that Katara’s ever heard, leaning into her response as if in concession to Katara’s bluntness.

‘_But_ sometimes he isn’t fully aware of the impact that these plans have on those who aren’t quite ready to come around to his way of thinking yet. Sometimes in his determination he lacks the caution that might present him as being more measured, and in turn more easily followed. He spends a lot of time and energy trying to bring people around to his ideas, when giving them just a bit of a sense of leeway would, I believe, make things much easier for him.’

‘But that’s exactly what he should be doing, isn’t it? Leading his people, bringing the nation back into balance with the rest of the world?’

‘Absolutely, but to what I think is his detriment he seems to want to do it all _right now_. And all on his own. Now-’

Aneko shifts in place, her stance following her tone into something just that bit more conversational, more at ease.

‘-I may not know him in the same way that you and your friends do, but I’m familiar enough with his background to understand why he might feel such a strong sense of personal responsibility, to the nation and to the world. He wants to prove himself, wants to right wrongs, and that’s all commendable. But he’s completely hopeless at accepting any real form of assistance.’

There’s something in that which feels, well, perhaps a little unfair? Maybe there had been a time, before, when Zuko was too strong-willed to receive help easily, but now... Katara thinks about the way he sat back during discussions with Jun as the rest of them chimed in, the way he’s turned to Aang for advice about the best measures he could take in making reparations post-war, the way – she shudders – the way he didn’t hesitate before asking for her support in facing his sister on the day of Sozin’s comet, and she’s just opening her mouth to protest Aneko’s assessment of him when the other woman cuts in with an addendum.

‘Except, I’ve noticed, when it comes to you.’

Katara stalls, not expecting this conversation with Zuko’s head of security, of all people, to turn quite so overtly in her direction. The squeak in her voice when she tries to speak feels nothing short of traitorous.

‘Me?’

Aneko lets out another chuckle – somewhat more pointed than Katara feels entirely comfortable with – before she clarifies.

‘All of you. Here. He’s been different – lighter, more willing to take advice or to let other people take the lead, more trusting... I suspect he knows, really, that being a leader isn’t about doing everything on your own, but more about surrounding yourself with the right people – being able to accept their expertise or support or whatever asset you want to prioritise there. He just needs to learn to have that kind of faith in people who don’t happen to be his best friends, or else I suspect he’ll struggle in the long-term.’

Katara offers a lift of her shoulder, an attempt at reassurance.

‘It sounded as though he was coming around to the idea of the team more after the attack the other night. Maybe that was a kind of turning point. Maybe he’s starting to understand your side of things more.’

Rather than agree, Aneko goes suddenly quiet, a furrow appearing on her brow, and Katara’s reminded strangely of Suki when she’s scoping out the arena during spars, the still kind of deliberation that seems engrained in those raised as warriors.

‘It’s funny you should mention that night,’ Aneko says after a moment. ‘I grew up here, you know, lived here up until I took the post with Lord Zuko. I know how the gangs in this city tend to operate, and the other night-... It felt wrong. It wasn’t consistent with the behaviour that the gangs usually exhibit. A lot of the violence in this city can be traced back to them in some way or another, but an overt attack on a group of high-ranking, famously skilled fighters? It seems strange that they’d think it would bring them any kind of benefit. Those of them that we’ve questioned in custody claim it was a protest against the new council coming in, and that in itself makes sense to me; they’ve had free rein over this place for decades, the idea of giving it up was never going to be something they took lightly.’

She shakes her head, her face twisting into a grimace as her fingers drum against the table.

‘But the agreement between Lord Zuko and King Kuei had already been made, and the only other viable heir to the Fire Nation throne is Lord Iroh, who’s known to be a staunch supporter of his nephew’s rulings, so it’s not like an assassination at that point would really have changed anything. I’m not sure what they would’ve stood to gain from succeeding.’

It’s not something that Katara’s thought about too much over the last few days. Being honest, it’s not something she expected to _need_ to think about past the obvious concern for the many attacks Zuko’s been subject to since his coronation, but now Aneko’s take on the whole thing is sending tendrils of unease creeping up her back.

‘You’re worried?’

Aneko gives a grunt of confirmation.

‘It’s a little troubling. Understanding people’s motives for doing things is one of the best ways to neutralise any threat they might pose. I don’t like it when the pieces don’t feel as though they fit.’

‘So how come you’re happy for him to go off to Gaoling without you? If you’re concerned about more potential danger?’

‘I have faith in my team. And besides, it’s like I was saying – if you don’t give people some sense of leeway, they’re much slower to come around to things. I’d much prefer it if Lord Zuko didn’t keep on resenting me for the duration of my time working with him.’

Katara laughs, perhaps a touch too fondly.

‘I’m sure he’ll come around. And when he does you’ll probably end up becoming one of his best friends – he doesn’t really do things by halves.’

‘He does not.’

There it is again, that funny sort of long-suffering affection in the older woman’s voice, and this time Katara calls it.

‘You care for him.’

Aneko’s face creases into a frown, her back straightening to attention as if Katara’s suggested something vaguely insulting to the warrior’s sense of objectivity.

‘It’s my job to care for him. Make no mistake, it’s a constant battle – calling him a thorn in my side wouldn’t be overstating it, but you didn’t hear me say that about the Fire Lord.’

Then she huffs out a laugh, and her eyes soften once more, and some of the tension in her spine seems to bleed out with her admission:

‘He reminds me of my daughter.’

‘You have a daughter?’

‘Mm. Yasuko. She’s a little younger than all of you, just turned ten.’

‘Where is she at the moment?’

‘We live back in the Fire Nation – she’s at home with her mother.’

Aneko’s whole posture has relaxed now, her body seeming to breathe one big sigh of serenity at the conversation turning to her family. It’s a new facet to the other woman, more accessible than her usual stiff efficiency, and Katara can’t help but smile at the novelty of it.

‘It must be hard, being away from them.’

‘Not quite so much now that Yasuko’s a bit older, but yes. Very hard. It’s something I’ve always been sure of, though – when we decided we wanted a child, we agreed that we were both going to keep working if it were possible. For all the terrible black marks in Fire Nation history, one of the things it’s always had going for it is the belief that there’s no job a woman can’t do just because she’s a woman. I wanted Yasuko to see that. I wanted her to grow up watching me and Himari being capable, doing things that we loved.’

It hits deep. After two years spent coming to the slow-dawning realisation that she was doing little more than languishing in the South Pole, caught in a role that didn’t fit no matter how important the work was, the need to keep this newly-won sense of purpose in her life feels as though it’s embedded in every cell of Katara’s being. It tugs at her constantly, finding the energy in her limbs to keep her moving enough that she doesn’t get bogged down in that sucking, sapping quicksand again. If she stops for too long, she’ll sink.

Perpetual motion. That’s what works.

‘What is it that she does, your wife?’

‘She’s an architect. And a great one, at that – designed the new western wing for this place when we were still living in Yu Dao a few years ago. You know the part that leads around to the pond at the back? She’s got more artistic talent in a single finger than I’ve got in my entire body.’

‘Wow.’

Eyes drawn to the high ceilings of the room, the pillars that bear the weight of the building above them, Katara’s struck by the intricacy of it all, how much work it must have taken to create.

‘That can’t have been easy – the two of you balancing work and a child.’

‘Not even a little bit.’

‘But you managed?’

‘We did. After a few arguments and a lot of negotiation around my shift work and very-’ A short bark of a laugh. ‘-_very_ little sleep for a long time. We managed to find our rhythm after about... five years or so? And then of course it wasn’t too long before Lord Iroh contacted me about this job and we had to move and it all got shaken up again for a while. I almost didn’t take it, actually – thought it would be too much after finally getting everything settled. But Himari wouldn’t let me give it up.’ Aneko’s voice falls to a place of easy reverence. ‘I owe that woman a lot.’

Something hurts. Katara’s not entirely sure what, but some small part of her, buried down where she can’t quite see it, is being quietly flayed to lie open and raw in the depths of her gut. It bleeds an aching desperation for something that she doesn’t know how to name, leaving her light-headed as she tries to stem the flow.

‘It’s all been worth it, though? Pushing to have both?’

She’s not sure which answer she’s hoping for in asking –

‘Oh, there is not a single doubt in my mind.’

– but Aneko’s conviction only makes her feel less stable by comparison.

‘There have been rough patches, and there are plenty of people with strong and-’ Aneko pauses, searching. ‘-_unsolicited _opinions about the choices we’ve made. But we both love what we do, and Yasuko... She’s the best of each of us. She’s opinionated and spirited and _stubborn_. Much in the same way that Lord Zuko is. Can’t say it doesn’t make my life harder sometimes, but when it comes down to it I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

_Wall it off. Shut it up. Figure it out later._

She forces her voice light.

‘Hm. You know, it kind of sounds like you don’t just care about Zuko because it’s your job.’

The other woman’s eyes narrow slightly, lips pursing in a way that looks suspiciously as though she’s trying not to smile.

‘Maybe not. Maybe I just have a pathological desire to surround myself with headstrong children.’

And perhaps it’s the wry tilt in Aneko’s voice, perhaps it’s the tightened, twisted coil within her demanding some kind of release... Whatever the reason, Katara finds herself laughing, and it only takes a moment of surprised silence before Aneko joins her. For a few seconds, she doesn’t feel like she’s faking – the ache is gone, her mind is wiped clear, and all Katara has to do is laugh alongside a newfound friend.

Then Aneko calms, loosening out of her mirth to speak again.

‘And yourself?’

Caught off guard, Katara misinterprets the question.

‘Me? I don’t have any children.’

The guard chuckles under her breath, shaking her head.

‘No, I mean you care for him too.’

‘Oh.’

And it’s back, the sharpness that pares over that same spot time and time again, peeling back what’s never more than half-healed to leak a little more hurt into her bloodstream.

‘Well, he’s my friend. Of course I care for him.’

Aneko watches her for what feels like too long, her gaze too probing, words too weighty for their size.

‘Well. That’s good.’

* * *

If anything, the prospect of seeing her parents again only seems to make Toph more excitable. Far removed from Zuko’s own preferred method of dealing with uncertainty, she does not sink down into the profundities of introspection, but instead assumes a level of hyperactivity which turns being stuck on a flying bison with her for ten hours into a challenge of considerable proportions.

‘-and you should’ve seen the look on the guy’s face, it was _classic_.’

Zuko shoots a grimace at Qiang across the saddle – a rare moment of cohesion between himself and his security detail – before turning back to Toph, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose to try and dispel the headache that’s starting to blossom behind his eyes.

‘Toph, it’s pretty late and tomorrow’s going to be busy. Maybe it’d be a good idea to try getting some slee-’

‘Nuh-uh. Nice try, Sparky, but no. We haven’t even _started_ on the subject of you and Little Miss Sunshine yet, and if you think I’m letting that one go whilst you’re trapped here with me then you clearly don’t know me very well.’

A groan rises in Zuko’s throat, swallowed emphatically back down before Toph can get wind of it, and he exerts every bit of breath control he’s wrought from years of training to keep his voice level.

‘We’re not talking about this.’

Totally unflappable. That’s him.

‘You get that saying that is just gonna make me press harder, right? It’s not like we don’t _all_ know that shit’s been going down with you guys, so being all cagey about it is only gonna make things worse. Gods, it’s like you’re _trying_ to give me ammunition.’

This time, the groan escapes before he can stop it, and he sees Toph’s grin flash in the half-light at his show of weakness. The headache is coming on with unyielding resolve. A glance at Qiang finds the other man wearing a poorly-concealed smirk and looking pointedly away from the conversation.

_Traitor._

‘This trip is meant to be about you and your parents, so why don’t we-’

‘A very good point – this is about me. I’d say that means I get to choose what we talk about. Spill it, Fire Lord.’

‘Okay, back on Ember Island when we were out looking for Aang you couldn’t stop going on about your history with your parents, and now that we’re actually going to see them you’re spending the whole time interrogating me about-’ He stalls, splutters, as if just saying her name feels too loaded. _Unflappable, sure, that really checks out._ ‘I mean, what’s with that?’

All at once, the humour strips away from Toph’s voice, her face pinching.

‘Nothing. Nothing’s _with_ that. I told you guys everything back at the halls, and now we’re on our way, and that’s it. Talking about it more now isn’t going to change how things go when we get there, is it? So what’s the point?’

Her words snap, brittle and sharp, against his face, and suddenly he understands.

_I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but hitting things head-on tends to break them._

She’s never had to face down a fear that couldn’t be overcome with sheer nerve before. She’s here, standing on ground that her feet don’t recognise, trying to navigate a way to deal with something that’s too fragile for her to confront in the way that she usually would.

Zuko shifts where he sits, twisting to face her properly again after his earlier defensive tilt away.

‘I guess it was easier to talk about it back before you decided to come, huh? Before it was really happening?’

For a moment, Toph looks as though she’s about to deflect again. Then the tension in her shoulders surrenders slightly, and she offers up the barest of cracks in the door that she’s been keeping so carefully guarded since they set off.

‘I guess so. You said it yourself, right? Before. This might not be something that can be fixed.’

‘But it’s something that you _want_ to be fixed.’

‘Well, yeah. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, would I?’

Zuko grunts his acknowledgement, falling silent for a moment as the wind whistles past them. Then he takes a breath, and turns them in the direction that she needs right now.

‘So tell me more about this guy in Ba Sing Se. What did he do after the roof caved in?’

A blink from Toph, and then a slow, dare he say _grateful_ smile works its way onto her face as she dives back into the chatter that he’d interrupted before.

‘Oh man, it was great – he just stood there with his eyes bugging out his head for like five minutes. Took my advice about solid building techniques much more seriously after that.’

The night passes over them filled with jokes and anecdotes, a few hours of sleep stolen in the darkest hours of the morning before the sun starts to rise. When Toph wakes, the buoyancy has left her, seeped slowly out alongside the energy that she’s expended keeping her mind focussed on anything but the day’s coming reunion.

They land outside Gaoling as first light begins to streak through the sky, leaving Appa to rest on the outskirts and taking an unhurried walk through the slowly-waking city, so that by the time they reach the Beifong residence the day is wholly begun.

Toph stands for a long time on the path outside her parents’ home.

Zuko waits.

Then, after what must be more than half an hour of silence, her voice rises over the noise that makes up the backdrop of the city.

‘Until I go in, I can still imagine how things are gonna go. I can- I can pretend that it’s all going to be fine. Once I’m in there, once we’ve talked...’

She falters, and Zuko steps forwards so that he’s standing beside her, filling in the words that she can’t get out.

‘It’s real. Whatever’s been said can’t be unsaid again.’

Her agreement comes in a truncated breath, a stiff nod. Another few minutes trickle by, Toph’s bare toes curling and uncurling against the stone of the pathway, and then with a deep inhale she pulls herself up into a bearing that rolls both the nobility and the fighter in her into one.

‘Okay.’

Everyone they come by just about falls over themselves at the sight of her, residence staff milling about her like beetle bees in a hive as she marches through the corridors of her old home.

‘Miss Beifong!’

‘My lady, what can I-’

‘And the Fire Lord, too. Ah, Miss Beifong, are your parents aware-’

Toph waves off the question –

‘Yeah, yeah, we’ve got a whole celebration planned over breakfast.’

– moving with steadfast purpose towards the place where, whether by familiarity with their routine or by virtue of her bending, she seems to know she’ll find her parents.

Sure enough, Zuko follows her around a final corner to be met by a bright, airy space, Lord and Lady Beifong bathed in the light that streams through the windows as they take their morning tea. Poppy is the one who spots them, the delicate cup slipping from her fingers in surprise at the sight of her daughter standing in the entryway.

‘Toph?’

Lao twists where he sits to follow his wife’s gaze, and his face lifts into the dignified smile of a nobleman who’s had proper etiquette drilled into him from birth.

‘Toph.’

Then his focus turns to Zuko, and something pulls taut in his expression. His smile doesn’t waver, but it takes on a veneered quality that Zuko is all too used to seeing in the faces of those who quietly begrudge him his place on the throne.

‘And Fire Lord Zuko. Welcome.’

Attention swinging back to Toph, the warmth doesn’t quite make it back into Lao’s eyes – he holds her instead under a newly-wary kind of surveillance, his posture as rigid as his words.

‘So, you’ve decided to come back.’

He can’t see Toph’s face from his position behind her, but Zuko does hear the second’s hesitation that her father’s stiltedness prompts, the watchful reserve with which she responds.

‘I’ve decided to come and talk. I thought maybe we could reach some kind of understanding.’

Lao’s expression thaws a little at her words.

‘Good. That’s all that your mother and I wanted.’

‘Is it?’

‘Of course.’

Poppy leans forwards where she sits, a hand stretched out as if reaching for her daughter.

‘Is there something on your mind, my darling?’

‘I’m pretty sure you said something about a betrothal in your last letter. Are you-’ Zuko can hear the cautious hope that’s escaping into his friend’s voice, and he winces at the way it clashes with the sense of foreboding rising in his chest. ‘-are you saying you don’t want that anymore?’

Lao’s words are _too_ measured, now, spoken tight through a jaw that refuses to give more than an inch to the conversation. The air in the room is growing thicker by the second, an eruption gearing up for the moment when the fault line rips.

‘We’ve always made it perfectly clear, ever since you were a child, that it was something we would expect of you. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that-’

‘Well, I think _I_ have made it perfectly clear since then that I don’t want it.’

The tension fissures, Lao’s fist cracking down against the table and sending crockery rattling under the force of his displeasure.

‘Toph.’ His eyes dart towards Zuko where he stands at a distance in the entryway before flicking back to his daughter. ‘This is no longer about your desire or lack thereof to marry someone we consider suitable. This issue is bigger than just you and our family now, it’s-’ Poppy reaches out to lay an assuaging hand on his arm, and Lao seems to take a second to gather himself before speaking again. ‘I understand that your efforts in ending the Hundred Year War were nothing short of remarkable, and for that I have made my pride known, but the Earth Kingdom remains under a more insidious attack than those you fought against in battle. Our land continues to be stolen for Fire Nation gain, our leader brainwashed into believing that this will somehow bring benefit to our country, and now, despite all that you have achieved, I find myself forced to question your judgement once more.’

Reprimand is sunk deep into the lines of the man’s face as he eyes Toph, his voice held strained in a poor imitation of propriety, clearly wishing for all he’s worth that he could pretend Zuko isn’t here but unable to find the nerve to disregard his presence completely.

‘You must be aware of the inappropriateness of this match. That is to say, of all the people you could’ve chosen...’

Zuko understands what’s going on approximately half a second before Toph does, and the horrified expression that spills across his friend’s face as she twists back in his direction is in picture-perfect continuity with the turn that rolls through his stomach at Lao’s words.

‘_What?_ You think _Zuko_ and _I_\- Oh gods, _fuck_ no.’

He couldn’t have put it better himself. Lao clearly doesn’t feel the same way.

‘You will not use language like that in our-’

‘No, you know what, I’ll use whatever language I want if this is how you’re going to treat me and the people I care about. Okay, _firstly_, ol’ Fire Pants over here is taken-’

Zuko balks.

‘Woah, hold up, I’m not-’

But Toph ploughs right through his protests without so much as a second’s pause.

‘_-and secondly_, he came here with me as a friend. To _support_ me. Which is more than either of you have ever done.’

She lets out a laugh that sounds like stone splitting, sharp and bitter.

‘I’m not the daughter that you wanted, I get it. There’s no point pretending it’s not true – we all know it, even if you guys have never had the guts to actually say it out loud. But I have done so much. I’ve _seen_ so much, more than you sitting here in your city that was barely even _touched_ by the war. I’m- I’m good. I’m good at what I do, and I know things that you don’t, and I have earned the right to be trusted by you. That’s how you should see me. And if you can’t do that, if you can’t accept that, then... then that sucks, and it hurts, but I can’t keep being the one who pays for it, and I can’t keep waiting for it to change. _I’m_ not going to change. This is who I am, and I can’t- I-... _Can_ you accept that?’

The moments spill away, sand trickling obstinately through the fingers of a girl who can move mountains, and her parents’ reticence holds crushingly clear. Zuko’s just close enough to hear the quake as she takes in a slow breath before submitting her final, quiet contribution to the room.

‘No. Okay. Well then, I guess it’s a good thing that I can.’

With that, she spins on her heel, moving swiftly past him and away into the corridor, leaving her parents sitting in stony silence in her wake. Zuko steps back, on the cusp of following her out, but just as he does so he finds himself speaking, low but sure.

‘It’s a mistake, you know. Not trying to know her.’

Lao’s face coils into a snarl, his hand coming up to wave at the men who stand in the entryway.

‘Guards, please escort the Fire Lord out of our home.’

But Zuko stalls them with a wave of his own, pulling up to his full height in a way that he usually reserves for royal appearances.

‘No need. I’m leaving.’

Toph isn’t there when he makes it outside, and he doesn’t see her on his way through the city back to the spot where they left Appa. It’s there that he finds her, laid flat in the middle of the grassy clearing with the bison nudging questioningly at her feet, her pale eyes a tell-tale red.

Coming up next to her, Zuko folds himself to the ground by her side, and for a moment the two of them just exist amongst the sounds of the forest.

‘Are you gonna punch me if I try to hug you?’

‘Probably.’

But she only sounds about half-sure, so he pulls her up into a sit and loops an arm, perhaps somewhat cautiously, around her shoulders. She doesn’t hug him back, but she does allow herself a handful of sharp, catching breaths as she settles slowly into his hold.

'So. Did that-... did that feel like closure?’

The question earns him a sarcastic and only slightly congested laugh.

‘No.’

He sighs, staring out at the trees that surround them.

‘No. Didn’t when I did it, either. Not really. Felt better than doing nothing, though.’

‘Jury’s still out on that one.’

‘Yeah. It comes eventually.’

Toph pulls away, swiping furiously at her eyes as she goes.

‘I would say you don’t understand, but I guess you do, huh, Sparky?’

‘Maybe a bit.’

‘And I guess I’m glad that you came with me.’

‘Well, someone told me recently that we’re a family. They were pretty aggressive about it, too.’

She snorts.

‘Sounds like you’ve got a real wise friend, there.’

‘Yeah, I think I probably do. You alright?’

‘Not really. But yeah.’

‘Yeah.’

They seem to agree wordlessly that it’s time for them to leave, picking themselves up off the ground and clambering onto Appa’s saddle, and it’s not until they’re in the air that Toph speaks again.

‘Hey, Zuko?’

Her use of his actual name throws him, almost makes him feel concerned.

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you gonna be okay? You and Katara.’

The question is unexpected, and he veers automatically into his usual denial.

‘We’re not-...’

But the words die on his lips. There’s never been anything to gain from trying to lie to Toph. And besides, aren’t they well past the point of pretending that everything’s normal?

He closes his eyes, letting the wind whip past his face.

‘I don’t know. I hope so.’

‘Me too.’

And then it’s if Toph has reached the limit of her daily quota of sincerity, the characteristic bite of sarcasm finding its way back into her voice.

‘So, how do these things usually end? You know, what are we meant to do now? Sit with you describing clouds to me whilst we think about the lessons we’ve learned?’

Opening his eyes, Zuko quirks an eyebrow in the earthbender’s direction, taking only a moment to contemplate his apparent death wish before reaching out and landing a solid punch on her shoulder.

‘Hey!’

He meets her scandalised protest with a shrug, a snigger, and the echo of her own words from another era:

‘That’s how I show affection.’

It’s the first time he’s seen her laugh properly since they left for Gaoling.

* * *

They return to Yu Dao amongst storm clouds and rain, only to find a letter pinned to the door of the residence:

_Gone to Zhang Wei’s for dinner – join us when you get back!_

The thought of food is a good one, one that makes him acutely aware of the fact that they haven’t had more to eat than a couple of street snacks picked up on their way through Gaoling that morning. But he can feel his muscles winding tighter with every flash of lightning that illuminates the sky, and the scar on his chest is twinging in a way that makes him want to hold his breath.

‘You go. I think I’m gonna stay here.’

‘You sure?’

He hums in confirmation.

‘Not feeling like a night out. I’ll see you guys later.’

Toph opens her mouth to respond, but stills before she can speak, cocking her head like she’s listening to something that he can’t hear over the pounding of the rain. Then her lips crook in an ill-subdued smile that makes him feel deeply unnerved, and she nods almost indulgently in his direction as she turns away into the rain.

‘Okay, then. We’ll catch you when we get back, Sparky. Have fun.’

The bewilderment at her behaviour doesn’t stick with him for too long, quickly yielding its position at the forefront of his mind to hunger, and so, after a quick nod of thanks and dismissal in Qiang’s direction, Zuko begins his traipse through the halls towards the kitchen.

His approach is met with the clatter of pans echoing down the corridor towards him, and he frowns, mentally checking the time and wondering why the residence’s cook hasn’t left for the day. Then, as he nears the doorway, an almighty crash rings out, accompanied by a voice that stops him dead in his tracks.

‘Gods damn it!’

_No._

And suddenly Toph’s behaviour makes sense.

He steps into the kitchen, and there she is, standing frazzled with flour on her face and a surprising number of pans strewn across the floor at her feet.

‘Katara?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes, buckle in for the next chapter. I have been writing it for the last... year? So like I'm very anxious about how it's gonna go BUT HEY, gotta finish it first. Until then!


	18. Downpour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE THAT THE RATING ON THIS FIC HAS CHANGED - it has gone from a T to an M rating and now contains scenes of a (spoiler alert that I don't know how to avoid giving) sexual nature, so please use reader discretion when deciding whether or not to keep reading.
> 
> Oh my god, I've been sitting on this one for literally like a year. Definitely a degree of apprehension in posting it, but here we go!

'Katara?'

She starts, looking up at him where he stands in the doorway, and the sharp breath of her surprise stirs up the motes of flour that hang in the air between them, sending them swirling in the light of the kitchen lamps. He might as well have just dropped out of the sky, if her shock at seeing him is anything to go on.

'Zuko!'

He watches her pull on a sense of composure; it wraps her snug, smoothing the lines off her face and drawing her arms tight across her chest.

'What are you doing here? You didn't go out to meet the others?'

His grimace is quick-footed and desperate to interfere, but he just about manages to catch it before it runs rogue across his face.

'Didn't feel like up to it. Long day.'

'Sure, sure. And Toph...?'

'She's at Zhang Wei's with Sokka and Suki.'

Katara's face falls.

'Oh. So her parents were—'

'Not good.'

'Gods, that's awful. Poor Toph.'

'Yeah, she was pretty upset. I think she'll be okay though, eventually.'

He takes a couple of steps further into the room and leans against the countertop, eyes scanning the clutter of pans on the floor around Katara.

'What are _you_ doing here? Looks like you've been... busy?'

A flush spreads across her face. She shuffles her feet uncomfortably, catching a nearby pot by accident; the clang of it bites, tugging at his already-stretched nerves.

'Oh, I had lunch late, didn't really feel like going out for dinner earlier. Then I thought I'd make some jian bing but—' She shoves out a laugh. '—I just had a bit of a clumsy moment and knocked the stack of pans off the side.'

She's lying, or least not telling him the whole truth, and he's about to call her on it when—

_Agni!_

Lightning snaps, every muscle in his body wrenches tight, and Katara... She jerks like she's just been punched, a full-body flinch that practically doubles her over. Zuko stares at her, his own pinch of panic dulled as comprehension spills over him.

They're leaves on the same branch, bells hanging on the same line; set to quiver, to clang under the same breath of wind. They're pipa strings tuned to the pitch of the storm.

She sees the look on his face, he knows, and her eyes slip shut for a moment of quiet frustration at being exposed so bluntly. When they open again, she won't meet his gaze, instead busying herself with collecting up the pans from the floor.

Then she speaks into the rain-spattered silence, her voice a low mutter.

'This is the only room in the whole damn place with no windows and you can still hear absolutely everything going on outside.'

Her focus is still firmly held on her tidying, but her hands are unsteady and the pans rattle as she gathers them up. Zuko's crouching down next to her before he can stop himself, just enough space left between them that he doesn't brush up against her side when he reaches out to help. He keeps his voice soft, holding onto the sense that they're talking to the room rather than each other; this is too delicate to look at directly.

'You too?'

She doesn't answer until she's straightened up, away from him, and set her pile of pans down on the counter.

'We don't have thunderstorms in the South Pole. Blizzards, sure, but... No lightning. So for the first couple of years I didn't reali—' Another crack of lightning, another roll of thunder that plucks her to tremor, and his chest twinges for more than just his own panic. '—I didn't realise there was an issue. And then I was maybe about two weeks into my stay on Kyoshi Island, I think, and a storm hit.' Her hands have clenched into fists on the countertop. 'It was like I could barely breathe, you know? The whole world just kind of... splintered. I could _smell_ the smoke from the palace courtyard.'

He's pulled slowly to a stand, fixed on her and her journey through time. When she turns to look at him, he watches her eyes focus back from Then to Now, returning from the moment of trauma only to be met by the echoes of it that still reverberate through their lives. Her words are quiet and watery.

'It must be even worse for you, though. I'm not the one who— I mean, it was you that got hurt.'

The thought hits him crooked, a glancing blow that doesn't quite sit right, and it's not something that he's ever felt the need or desire to examine before but suddenly it's patently clear that—

'That's not what I remember.'

'What? What do you mean?'

'The pain. That's not the thing that I remember about that day. The thing that makes this difficult... It's the fear. Or the memory of it, I mean. I was so—' And now he's the one slipping back to find a red sky and a crackle of static waiting for him. The muscles in his shoulders spasm, a tight twang that shoots up his neck, and he finds a little heat in the harsh, shuddering draw of his breath to try and ease it loose again. 'I thought I was about to watch you die.'

For just a moment, the squall falls quiet. He hears her ring clear.

'I can relate.'

They reverberate side by side, attuned.

Then he swallows, hard, and clears himself of the debris of another time as best he can.

'So, talk me through the recipe for these jian bing.'

'Oh, no, don't worry about that, I can just—'

'I've lived through plenty of storms the last few years. Had more practice than you. Let me help.'

He's steady enough that he can lend her his hands for a while.

A pause.

'Okay. Flour first.' Then— 'Thank you.'

'No need. I'm just trying to keep you from destroying the kitchen.'

* * *

It's futile, of course. The countertop slowly degrades into a mess of spillages and dirty dishes which seem to appear out of nowhere as they muddle their way through the recipe.

'Zuko, you're going to burn them!'

'A bit of char makes things better!'

Every raging cry from the storm still brings something high-pitched and strained with it, and the pangs in his chest squeeze a little more vice-like each time, but in the interludes, Zuko finds that he can almost forget what's going on outside their pocket of scented steam and familiarity.

Her laugh helps.

As does the graze of her shoulder against his when they sit, backs against the wall, to enjoy their spoils.

And, yes, okay, the way her face lights up as she talks about her studies hits him pretty hard as well.

'It's not like it's easy, exactly. It's stressful and difficult and sometimes it's really sad, but I— Gods, I just love it. I really do. I think it's possibly the first thing I've ever done just for myself. I mean, I know that it's based around helping other people, but I feel like now I'm doing it because I want to, not because I think that I have to. Somehow that makes a difference, you know?'

Zuko nods, a quiet grunt of acknowledgement finding purchase in the back of his throat.

'I get it. Doing things out of obligation isn't the same as making the decision for yourself.'

He's looking out across the room now, so he can't see the way her expression changes, but her groan has enough colour to it that he can picture her face in his mind.

'And being Fire Lord is nothing _but_ obligation, right? Spirits, I feel awful now — you shouldn't have let me go on like that!'

Her belligerence on his behalf pulls a chuckle out of him, and the gentle burr of it soothes the tension behind his ribs a little.

'No, it's fine. That part of the job is something I'm getting used to, kind of. I do it because I have to, but at the same time I don't think I'd be able to do anything else. I don't think I could be _happy_ doing anything else, knowing how much there is to make right.' He lets his head tip back to meet the wall behind him, and the thud of it knocks more words loose, words transparent and true that he hadn't planned on saying. 'The worst bit about it is the façade. It's not the work itself that's the issue, it's... I feel like I need to be someone else to do it. It's all pageantry.' He can see her out of the corner of his eye, watching him as he leaks out a little of the burden that he's been hauling around. 'It's like I'm not real there. Being here is the most myself I've felt in ages.'

Her touch on his arm is so unexpected that he almost goes to bat it away, as if it's a spider fly that's alighted on his skin rather than the tentative graze of her fingers. She wanders over the bones of his wrist, tracing that indistinct line between comforting and something else that isn't nearly as harmless, and he can't help being pulled around to face her as she speaks.

'We're all here, you know. We might not always be _here_ here, and— and I know that I disappeared for a while—'

'Wait, stop, you don't need to apologise for—'

'Zuko. Please.' He holds her stare, unbending, until she yields with a sigh and settles for weaving her apology into subtext rather than actual words. 'I'm here now. Even if things are... I'm here. For you to be as yourself as you want.'

He's about to reply — although with what, he's not sure — when a particularly jagged twist of pain jolts through his chest. It forces the breath out of him, a sharp gasp that was never going to go unnoticed.

'What was that?'

Katara has straightened, lifting away from the wall to face him fully, a frown making itself a place on her brow.

'What? It's nothing, don't worry about it.'

'No, no, that wasn't nothing.' Understanding dawns slowly across her face, followed swiftly by dismay. 'It still hurts you, doesn't it? The scar.'

'Only when there's a storm going.' He tries to brush it off, play it down, but he can _feel_ the cool, itching pinpricks of guilt spitting from her. 'Don't.'

'What?'

'Stop blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault.'

'It was, though. If I hadn't been there, if I'd stayed out of the way, if I'd _healed_ you better-'

'No, Katara, you saved my life-'

'Yeah, and the only reason I needed to was because you saved mine first! I mean, you took a bolt of lightning for me, Zuko, you-... What were you thinking?'

He clears his throat softly, taking in the dance of the lamplight across her face. She's flickering in and out of his reach, close enough for him to touch one moment and hidden in shadows the next.

'I can't say I was thinking very much at all, actually. There was quite a lot going on at the time. I just... moved.'

For a long, quiet trickle of seconds, Katara's eyes move slowly over his face, like she's trying to find some sort of absolute truth written across his skin. Then her gaze drops tentatively to the spot at the base of his breastbone where everything grips and aches.

'Can I?'

He nods, not trusting the sound that will come out of his mouth if he tries to talk.

Her hands come up between them to pull gently at the neckline of his tunic, leaving the tie as it is but freeing the wrap of it enough that his chest is bared to her. Summoning a stream of water from the drum that sits in the corner of the kitchen, she presses a hand against the scar that blooms across his skin, and her face is suddenly highlighted blue by the glow of her power; the tension in his muscles fades, the toughened tissue releasing until his breath comes easy and painless. Even after she's done, her palm lingers, fingers curling lightly against his ribs. He feels something listing in him, turning over in his chest, and he's not sure if it's her healing or her proximity that's doing it.

When he finds his voice again, it whispers low and hoarse as he offers further answer to her guilt-laden questioning.

'I promise you, it was probably entirely selfish.'

As close as they are, he finds himself sinking even further towards her without meaning to. Nothing is conscious anymore; he is lost and primeval, and all that the thoughtless creature inside him wants is for her to be near him.

Katara seems to notice the way gravity's pulling at them the same time he does. She stills, wets her lips. His gaze darts to the hollow between her collar bones, watching as a swallow ripples down her throat, and then flits back up to meet her eyes at the soft murmur of her voice.

'You've always been a much better man than you give yourself credit for. I'm sure you would've done the same thing for anyone else.'

Her eyes draw him towards her as if she were a current carrying him out to open water. His breath is so elusive and insubstantial in his lungs that his response probably would've gone unheard if she weren't so near.

'Maybe I would have.'

Their foreheads meet, her nose grazing against his. She breathes out a word and it whispers on his lips, her fingers feather-light as they find the side of his face.

'But...'

'But.'

They hold, hovering a sigh away from each other.

Surely, _surely_ she can hear the way the blood is raging in his veins with how much he wants her; his heart is pounding hard enough that she must be able to feel it shivering through him, every beat bringing the already infinitesimal gap between them further and further closed until there's nowhere else to go—

The barest brush of lips, scarcely even a kiss.

He feels his heartbeat stutter in a way that it hasn't done in three years.

And a crash of thunder rips through the moment, startling them apart.

'_Fuck_, spirits!'

He blinks, an eyebrow raising at the vehemence of the curse that spits from Katara's mouth even as his mind struggles to catch up with what's just happened. She catches the look on his face and gives her head a sharp shake, her breathing harsh and uneven like she's just found it again after resurfacing.

'Sorry, I just— Oh, gods.' She lets out a laugh that bubbles with nervous energy. 'Do you want some tea or something? My heart is going like...'

Her fingers tap against her chest in a rapid tattoo. It's not entirely clear whether she's talking about the lightning or— or _that_, but before he can say anything, she's gone, stood up from their spot against the wall to seek out the teapot amongst their discarded cooking ware.

The white-out starts to clear from his head a little as he watches her trying to light the burner, and in its place comes a buzzing, agitated energy that rushes over him, prickling across his skin. He doesn't quite know how to make room for it as it pushes against the inside of his skull, as it pulls him up off the floor to hover a few feet away from her.

She pauses in trying to coax a spark from the flint, gathering her hair off the back of her neck and twisting it up onto the crown of her head, as if trying to catch wayward thoughts and press them back where they belong. Her back is turned to him, so he can't see her face, but every part of her that he _can_ see is magnetising, shimmering through the flurry of _almost_ that spins in his mind: the angle of her jaw, the shell of her ear, every ridge down the back of her neck... Gods, his fingers are burning.

'Need some help with the burner?'

She turns to face him at that, letting her hair fall loose again, and he might just be kidding himself but he thinks perhaps she looks about as restless and ragged as he feels.

'Ah.' The noise she makes is part-reprimand, part-lament, all-sigh. 'You're doing it again. Looking at me like I'm...'

The rest of her words are lost as she chokes off under their weight. But they're words that Zuko needs to hear. He needs the heavy solidity of what she sees in his face to rest over the two of them, to bear down until they break, until _something_ breaks, because he can't carry on with the way they keep coating themselves in small-talk and pretending they aren't cracked anymore.

'Like you're...?'

Bit by bit, fissure by fissure, she comes towards him, eyes never leaving his on her journey into his orbit until the orange of the kitchen lamps is eclipsed by blue. She's close enough that he can almost pretend that he feels the vibration of her voice running through him when she speaks, his very skin humming with it.

'The thing is, when you look at me like that, it's like I can't catch my breath. It's like I can't even think straight.'

Zuko knows the feeling.

'Sorry, I'm not- It's not deliberate, but I can- I'll try to stop.'

But as he goes to back away, to slip free of the snare that has the creature in him held trapped, he finds himself caught by her hand at the crook of his elbow. Turning back, he finds her gaze fixed on the spot where she's gripped him, her expression unreadable.

The cracks grow.

'Do you want me to stop?'

She doesn't answer, but a hint of a frown appears on her forehead, and his fingers move of their own accord to tilt her chin up so that he can see her face properly.

They bend a little further.

'Katara. Do you want me to stop?'

And it must be hours, _days_ that the silence lasts as she stares back at him, probing out the spots where he's falling apart, forcing the crevices in him that bit wider.

Then something in her face solidifies, raw and wrecked and adrift of reason.

Perhaps she has a creature of her own.

'No.'

And she wraps a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him hard down towards her and—

Gods alive.

They break.

They _break_.

Whatever she was saying about needing to catch her breath, she seems to be managing just fine now. He, on the other hand... He can feel his lungs filling with the hot, needy air that she's forcing past his lips as her mouth moves, _strives _against his with a persistence — _spirits, was she this good at this before?_ — that leaves him feeling light-headed.

He's drowning, but in just the best way.

There is no easing down into the depths, no slow sink beneath the waves. He goes from dry land to the ocean floor in seconds, weighed down by the heat of her body on his as he pushes her back against the kitchen counter.

He'd forgotten the sounds she made — how, he can't fathom — but now the rediscovery of her quiet sighs comes for him with blinding force; his fingers trip wanderingly along her collarbone, then he breaks away from her mouth to follow their path with his lips, and the way that she gasps and breathes his name into his ear has him aching against her.

'Katara, what—' His mouth is resolute on her neck, but he just manages to find space to murmur the words into the spot where her pulse beats. '—what happened to keeping things _friendly_?'

'I don't know, I'd say we're looking pretty friendly right now—' She sucks in a hiss as his teeth find a spot beneath her ear, raking just firm enough across her skin to send her arching into him. '—wouldn't you?'

Then, after a moment, she pushes him back, and her pupils are blown black but her face is struggling for some degree of control as she finds her breath.

'Zuko... Just so that we're— Nothing's changed. This still isn't— We can't— You can walk away if you want. This is probably a really stupid mistake, and I don't want you to feel like I've led you on or taken advantage or—' A strangled noise twists itself up in the back of her throat. 'But these last few days, I can't... I feel like I'm going mad, this is driving me— _you're _driving me... and, and it's like I can hear my heart beating in my ears _all the time_, and my head won't stop spinning, and I just— I don't have any fight left. I can't make myself not want you right now. But you can walk away if you don't think— if that's what you want to do. You can— Gods, you probably _should_ walk away.'

It doesn't bear thinking about.

'_Fuck_, I— Katara, I'm not going to do that.'

'Okay,' she breathes, she almost _sobs_, and her fingers tug sharply at his hair to bring his lips back to hers.

The stillness, the tentativeness from their earlier graze up against each other is gone. Now everything is grasping hands and desperation and a deep, searing hunger that only grows the closer she pulls him to her. She is a tempest, a sea under storm, raging and wild, and the small, unheeded part of him that tries to speak sense, tries to tug him back to shelter, is silenced under the strength of her tide.

Her hands are unsteady, fumbling on the tie of his tunic, unwilling to put the space between them that she needs to be able to pull it loose. He finds the will to abandon his study of her ribs and works the knot free himself, a tremor running down his back as her fingers start their own exploration across the newly-bared terrain of his body.

Every touch, every breath — _Katara —_ is a promise that neither of them knows how to keep. Little by little, she inters herself beneath the scarred barrier of his skin, seeps in through his pores, dissolves him from the form and weight of his frame, and it's as if his very essence has become fluid. Hers to lead.

And lead him, she does. They've barely reached her bedroom, stumbling blind and urgent through the halls, before she's shoving the tunic off his shoulders, pushing him backwards until they hit her bed and the two of them go tumbling down together.

He can't say how the rest of the clothes between them are shed. He can't bring to conscious thought the words of reverence that fall from his lips as her skin reveals itself beneath his hands.

He can speak only for the way that his heartbeat races through his body, her hands chasing his pulse as it bounds wildly under his skin, until his whole being starts thrumming with the rhythm that she brought back to his chest after it was shocked and scorched off-beat. Katara kneels over him, showering kisses across his skin like a cloudburst, and he turns his face up into the deluge and drinks her in as if he were a man dying of thirst, finally touched by rainfall.

And when, at last, she brings them together, she lets loose a wondering kind of

_oh_

as if to say

_now I understand_

which he thinks could near have killed him if this weren't the last moment he would ever want to miss.

He isn't ignorant; he knows he isn't the first person to touch her. But he finds, perhaps unexpectedly, that he holds no jealousy, no resentment towards those who have known the curves and creases of her body, those who have tasted the salt off her skin in the years that he's been unable to hold her.

Because he thinks that — if she feels anything like he does and _fuck_ he hopes he's making her feel like he does — he might be the first person to touch her _like this_. Right now, in this rain-swept moment that can only pass as fleetingly as the flashes of light that still illuminate the world outside, that is so much more than enough. _She_ is so much more — she is absolute, she is all.

It doesn't last. How could it, with both of them burning so blisteringly hot? Her hips twist, his hand fists in her hair, and all at once they're flashing. Flaring. Ash.

The thunder growls and snaps outside, but neither of them is paying enough attention to be afraid anymore.

* * *

They lie there — silent, awash in her bed sheets — for what feels like hours, and Katara doesn't know how to feel.

The storm has abated, but it hasn't managed to break the heat; if anything, the air feels more saturated now, enough that the sweat on her skin won't seem to dry. Moonlight spills through the room, throwing everything into a kind of otherworldly highlight, and she's caught halfway between waking and sleeping. If she slips far enough into the haze of it, if she allows herself to be hypnotised by the rise and fall of Zuko's chest as he breathes, she can almost imagine that this is all something her mind is creating for her.

But then, no dream of hers has ever had this kind of weight to it before, ever felt so heavy as to be this clearly and cuttingly real.

'Are you okay?'

It takes him a long time to respond. She's not surprised; it's hardly an easy question —

'No.'

— and yet, as soon as it's spoken, the simplicity of his answer feels obvious, inexorable.

'What about you?'

She can't make herself say anything in return, even though they both know her answer is no different to his. As if merely shaking her head might somehow make the truth less true than speaking it would.

Of course they're not okay. Nothing about any of this is _okay_.

The space in between them is opening, pulling apart the shards of them that clung together when they splintered, taking him bit by agonising bit away from her again. She's not ready. Not yet.

And now she manages to find her voice, shaking as it is.

'Kiss me.'

It comes as a simple enough request, but _oh_, it's filled to the brim, inundated with an infinity of other pleas which stay unspoken, left sitting on her tongue ready for him to taste.

_Cover me._

Zuko doesn't hesitate. He slides his hands into her hair—

_Hold me._

—and moulds his mouth over hers again, kissing her deep and dizzy—

_Thaw me._

—like she is something essential, sustaining, divine—

_Melt me._

—like he wants to breathe her right into him—

_Mend me._

—where she would gladly rest in the notch next to his heart for as long as he could hold her before floating out again on his next breath.

_Ruin me._

And he must find more, more words caught at the corners of her lips because, silently, with fingers that hum and sigh along the contours of her face, he starts to answer the questions that she's afraid to ask out loud.

_Does this make it better?_

_No. Yes. A little, for now. _

_Are we making a mistake?_

_Unquestionably._

All she had wanted was to hold that feeling of closeness for just a little longer, to push back at the chasm that the on-creeping return of reality had started to open between them. She hadn't intended anything more, but under the breathless pressure of his lips on hers —

_Are you sure that you—_

_Stop now. Let me want you. Let us have this much._

— she feels a light start to flicker somewhere deep down, her body waking up again, _his_ body taking notice as she begins to shift against him and replying with an eloquence that leaves no room for uncertainty.

He moves as if all the time in the world is at their bidding, as if the night might pull on and on ahead to hold them fast in its heady, humid embrace for as long as they desire.

Every touch is heated; so heated and so, so _slow_. It's almost intolerable, almost painful, the lilting rise of the fever, of the gods-damned fucking _spirits_ _please Zuko _delirium that he's stoking in her, but then pulling back could only hurt a hundred times more so all she can do is curl closer into the sheen of his chest and lave the sweat off his neck with her tongue in some desperate attempt to drive him onwards.

The groan that rises from his throat runs right through her, a shot of dark, rumbling thunder that rolls mercilessly over every hypersensitive part of her body, and she shivers back just enough to look him in the eye. The landscape of his face is as it's always been, rough-hewn and flawed in a way that she realises with terrible, striking lucidity she could map without light, without scale or standard, as if her hands retain memories collected from all the times her eyes have wandered across him. But the expression it holds now is one she's never seen on him before, silver-lit and wanting, and he is so devastatingly, overwhelmingly perfect that it almost breaks her.

'Katara.'

'Zuko?'

'What do you need? Tell me what you need.'

There are too many ways to answer, too many broken little truths that she could offer him.

She runs her fingertips across his face, tracing the lines of his scar, and keeps it as simple as she can:

'Your hands.'

The first brush of his fingers leaves her almost incoherent, bowing and breathless, and perhaps if she tries hard enough her existence might just distil down to this one moment where he's touching her like that, right there _oh gods yes right there_, and she can taste his breath in her mouth and he's here and he's here and he's _hers._

Gradually, achingly, he dismantles her beneath his hands, brands every inch of her with his lips, tongue, teeth. His fingers run across her skin — exhaustive, worshipful — and she rises into his touch as if she were the flames he compels, coming apart with terrifying ease before he gathers up the pieces and puts her back together only to start all over again.

'Zuko, I- I-'

He knows the words that are catching in her throat, she's sure. Sure because she can see them burning on his tongue, too.

But she can't get them out. Not now. Not like this. Not when she knows that he will only remain solid for as long as his weight is pressing against her, that any sense of they, them, us can only be transient. She feels him think the words with every graze of his lips over her temple and along her the line of her jaw, with every shivering path that he traces down her ribs and across the seams of her thighs, but once they're released into the air she knows that's it, she's done, they're both lost.

So neither of them says anything as he winds their fingers together, his body finding its place above hers almost too naturally, as if this is exactly where he's meant to be —

gods, this is exactly where he's meant to be

— and then he whispers everything _except that_ against the curve of her neck as he draws them both up, up, _up_ to sighing, shuddering release; until she can feel his fingers tremble where he touches her and there's no breath left between them and the only word on her lips is his name.

She thinks that if he weren't folded fast around her, if his hands weren't holding her steady, she might be scattered to the stars.

* * *

The sky is still dark, the rest of the world still asleep when Zuko rises from his spot next to her. He dresses in slow motion, playing out the time he has to spend under her gaze just that bit longer, and Katara stays curled amongst the sheets, her eyes fixed on the pale form of him as he moves through the room.

He pauses by the door, casts a glance back at the space they've shared, exalted, and surrendered.

Then he leaves, and they are both alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am both very sorry and not at all sorry.
> 
> Please, please let me know what you think - this chapter has been in the works for so long and it's a big turning point and I can't quite believe that it's finally here!


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